


Chimaeras and Dragons and Boys, oh my

by Ran_into_the_night



Category: Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Barnaby is the best friend ever, Bisexual Barnaby Lee, Charlie's an idiot and kind of a dick at first, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, I stan Bi Barnaby forever, IF YOU ARE NOT AT YEAR SIX IN THE GAME, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Potential Spoilers, Slow Burn, Teenagers who don't know how to communicate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:13:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24932083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ran_into_the_night/pseuds/Ran_into_the_night
Summary: ”Sounds like a deal Weasley,” she says back quietly, “eyes on the snitch then yeah? Don’t want you going and getting distracted.”His eyes shift back up to hers, taking her in for another moment before he replies.”Good thing you aren’t the seeker then.”Or:The rambling, sometimes infuriating Hogwarts Mystery in-between scenes of falling in love with Charlie Weasley while trying to manage everything else.
Relationships: Player Character (Hogwarts Mystery)/Charlie Weasley
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34





	1. Fly me to the Moon

### Hogwarts, Year 5

  
“Oi! Chin up Holmes!”

Ellie startles as the brash words hit her, pulling her out of her reverie where she stands in the entrance hall, waiting for Andre to walk down to the pitch with her. A calloused finger bumps her under the chin before she can even properly register who’s talking to her, the person attached to it swaggering by her with a smug, shit-eating grin on his face. 

”Never gonna beat us with your head in the clouds!” Charlie Weasley shouts back over his shoulder, gold and crimson Quidditch robes stretched tight across his muscles, broom in hand. 

And fuck if she doesn’t know that. She flips him off instead of trying to come up with some creative insult, her mind temporarily stunned by the sudden onslaught of Charlie. He laughs, smile lighting up his face and crinkling his eyes. He stops and turns around to look at her fully, walking back to stand right in front of her. 

”Winner buys butterbeer,” he says, infringing further and further upon her personal space until he’s so close she has to look up at him, brown eyes glowing down at her, his smile turned small and private, sweeter and less cocky.

So close.

Too close.

She’s almost afraid he can hear the way her heart pounds faster with every step he takes. She’s pretty sure he knows exactly what he’s doing too. She opens her mouth to tell him that he’s on, but gets cut off by Andre’s voice piping up from behind her. 

”Cheers, Weasley. I’ll meet you there with the rest of the team then.”

He doesn’t take his eyes away from hers, but his smirk is back in full force. 

”Who said you were invited, Dre?” He shifts his broom, leaning in to whisper the next part just for her, “I was hoping it could stay a private offer.” 

He’s so close, and smells so good, that composing herself enough to keep the mood playful feels like an entire Quidditch match in itself. She tilts her head to the side and smirks back at him, watching his eyes follow the movement of her lips. 

”Sounds like a deal Weasley,” she says back quietly, “eyes on the snitch then yeah? Don’t want you going and getting distracted.”

His eyes shift back up to hers, taking her in for another moment before he replies. 

”Good thing you aren’t the seeker then.” 

With that he hitches his broom up, stepping back from her and turning away toward the open door out to the grounds.

”G’luck Egwu, you know you’ll need it.” Cocky, confident Charlie is back, and she’s honestly not sure which version of him she finds the most attractive. Probably all of them, if she’s being completely honest with herself. She watches him go, shoulders shifting beneath his robes seductively. She doesn’t even realize she’s started biting her bottom lip until Andre walks up beside her, eyebrow raised in amusement. 

”I know he’s hot El, but try not to drool all over the floor love.” 

“Fuck me Andre, honestly. I never know if he’s flirting, or just being friendly and I’m reading into it too much.” 

His other eyebrow climbs up his forehead to meet the first one, disbelieving. 

”If you think that’s ‘just being friendly’ then I want more of the kinds of friends you have Curse-Breaker. There was enough sexual tension in that conversation to fog up the whole castle.” 

She hums, considering. 

“Maybe,” she muses, grabbing her comet off the wall and moving to walk towards the grounds as well, groups of students starting to mill about in excited anticipation for the match. They walk down to the change room together, nerves building as butterflies about the impending match take over for the Charlie-induced butterflies.

They’d already beat Hufflepuff by a landslide —their regular keeper out with the flu— and tied Slytherin 200 to 200. The Slytherin captain had been furious with their seeker for not keeping Ravenclaw’s at bay until they could get 10 more points. So, it really was quite important that they win this match if they wanted any chance at the Quidditch cup this year, especially playing against Gryffindor, with Charlie on a vicious high since finding out he’d be the newest Captain next year. They settle into the Ravenclaw change room, looking up at Orion as he leads them through their pre-game rituals. 

”Alright family,” he says finally, after a fifteen minute rundown of drills and pep talks, “We are strong as one, and our energies are in line. We will play well.” 

They march onto the pitch as a team, the roar of the stands spiking their adrenaline instantly. She doesn’t usually love attention, but like this, with her team, she finds it motivating. It’s about all of them. They get into position, watching as Orion shakes hands with the Gryffindor captain. Her eyes meet Charlie’s, his game face cracking up into a helpless smile as she drags her thumb across her neck in mock intimidation, mouthing _you’re going down_ as she wiggles her eyebrows at him ridiculously. The whistle blows and they take off, rising into the air and jumping into action as soon as Madam Hooch releases the balls. She vaguely registers Murphy’s voice booming through the stadium, but everything else is a blur of adrenaline. It’s a fantastic game, and everyone is in top form. They lose, but only by 10 points, and she has 80 points to claim as her own. When Charlie catches the snitch he blasts right by her, grinning like a madman as he flies back to his team. Nothing feels like winning, but knowing that she’s heading to the Three Broomsticks with Charlie takes some of the sting of losing out anyway.   
  


*   
  
  


She walks to the table with two butterbeers in hand, plopping down into the seat across from Charlie. The roaring fire next to them is more than welcome after the chill of flying for so long. 

”Oh, Ellie love, how very kind of you,” Charlie mocks, his gloating grin cuter than it has any right to be. 

“Sure, sure, you win. Now drink your butterbeer, will you?” 

“What do we say?” He chides, holding his glass up for a cheers, waiting until she says what he wants. 

Ellie narrows her eyes at him, answering in the most bored tone of voice she can manage. 

”Charlie Weasley is the greatest seeker that ever lived.” 

”Exactly,” he says brightly, either ignoring or thoroughly enjoying her attitude, clinking his glass against hers enthusiastically, “cheers love.” 

He takes a long swig from his drink, clanking it down on the table with a satisfied sigh once he’s done.

”But in all seriousness though, you played a fantastic match today. You’re a fucking wicked flier Bells,” he says earnestly, and flattered pride swells in her chest, “anyone could see that you were flying circles around our chasers, as much as I would never admit that to anyone else. If only you were a Gryffindor. Now that would be a party.” 

“The sorting hat thought about it,” she admits, and realizes she’s never really told anyone that before, how much trouble it had placing her.

“It said I have the makings of a ‘true and great Gryffindor,’ but, I guess it thought I could grow the most in Ravenclaw, so.” 

Charlie groans and lobs a roasted nut at her, dinging her on the shoulder. 

”Now what did you have to go and tell me that for? We could have been friends from the beginning instead of wasting three years! You’ve sabotaged this relationship Holmes,” he says mock accusingly, narrowing his eyes at her, “how dare you.” 

Ellie bats her eyelashes and pouts her lips, playfully pleading with him. 

“I’m so sorry, is there any such thing I can do to make you forgive me? I’ll do _anything_ Charlie,” she grabs his hands and makes a puppy dog face at him, and notices that the tips of his ears pink ever so slightly. He clears his throat, but doesn’t pull his hands away. 

”I have a few things that come to mind,” he says, his voice low, and lets the implication hang in the air between them. Ellie breaks first, pulling her hands free and folding them in front of her on the table. She’s always found it overwhelming having Charlie’s full attention on her. Never quite as outgoing as Bill, it always felt special being able to keep his undivided attention, instead of a half-sided conversation with his head stuck in a book like he does to so many other people. If he wants to play like this, though, she can too. 

She draws her bottom lip between her teeth and lets her gaze turn heated, conspicuously flicking from his eyes to his lips and back again. She looks at him as innocently as she can feign. 

”Mm, just tell me when you know what you want. I’ll do whatever you want to you,” she tilts her head to the side, like she could even pretend it was a mistake, “...I mean, for you.”

She says it uncharacteristically softly, the statement loaded and daring, more a challenge than anything else. She knows he remembers what he said to her, that he didn’t care about dating or love. She knows it was rash and awkward and he probably regretted it, but it hurt, and she wasn’t going to let him off the hook, not yet. He’d figured out in the last year that girls liked him, and took advantage of it without ever letting it get too serious or emotional. She knew that, knew him, and she wasn’t going to be another blip on that list of people throwing themselves at him, but she wasn’t going to let him off without teasing him a little either. One especially memorable instance was a 6th year Hufflepuff couple asking if he’d join them. He turned it down, but still. The lack of inhibition that some people have is downright impressive. If he wanted her, he had to make the first move (an idea reinforced wholeheartedly by Bill, who thought his “pigheaded brother needed a good kick in the ass anyway”). 

His face is focused, looking at her like he wishes he could read her mind. She knows she plays her cards close to her chest, but so does Charlie. Hers coming from years of stilted home life after losing Jacob, Charlie’s from years of trying to find a speck of privacy in his overcrowded house. Different, but too similar in a lot of ways. Sure they flirt, hard and shameless, but any time it gets too real they scamper away from the topic like scared mice. 

His lips part ever so slightly and she hears him breath in. She hangs onto that breath, holding her own, waiting to see what he’ll say. They’re so entranced in each other that they both jump like scared cats when Bill’s voice cuts through the quiet tension. 

“Oi! El! Charlie!” Bill booms through the pub, earning himself a disparaging look from Madam Rosmerta. He plops a shot of fire whisky down in front of each of them, cuffing his brother on the shoulder and sitting down beside Ellie, slinging an arm around her. 

“Drink up you two, I think it goes without saying not to tell mum that I’m buying you drinks.” 

They all drink their whisky, the slow burn sliding down their throats like dragon’s breath. 

“Cheers Bill,” Charlie coughs, making a face at the burning liquor. They really only started drinking little bits this year, sneaking in whatever they can and all taking sips from a bottle. It was Ellie, though, who’d perfected her vinegar to wine transfiguration so well that she could make a crisp, delicious wine without blinking (Bill would only teach her how if she promised not to tell anyone else). It’s a great trick at parties, and drastically reduces the amount of hard liquor they need to sneak around. 

But still, the blood-warming tingle that shoots through her from the fire whisky is a completely different experience.

“Now how are my favourite Quidditch players doing? You did a bang up job, El. Too bad Charles is actually good at his job, if nothing else.” 

“Git,” Charlie says, rolling his eyes at his brother. 

”No shame in it,” says Bill, taking a sip of his ale, “we all have our strengths and weaknesses. For example, Ellie is smart and talented and brave and beautiful and a fantastic flier and a curse-breaker, but bad at acknowledging she has feelings, and you’re good at Quidditch and school and creatures and knowing things about dragons, and bad a flirting. See? Balance.”

Charlie chokes on his butter beer, a deep flush spreading down from his ears and across his cheeks, giving Bill a murderous look in between hacking coughs. Ellie gives Bill a look that says “maybe give him a break,” but Bill has seen all her tears, talked her through all the times she saw Charlie chatting up another cute girl between classes, and she knows he’s tired of giving him a break. In his mind, Charlie just needs a good slap around the head to get him moving, but she’s still not getting her hopes up, apathetically settling into the friend role if that’s how Charlie wants it. 

Ellie giggles under her breath, telling them to be nice.

”But please,” she tells Bills, “keep telling us how wonderful I am.”

”Do I have to be here for this,” Charlie whines, and they both insist that he absolutely does.

”Besides, it’s a Saturday Charlie, which means there definitely won’t be a party in the Hufflepuff common room, that I definitely won’t know about or endorse in any way. So, I’ll hang out here with the other 7th years as long as we can, and you can go back and have your party. Have a good one yeah? And make sure you cast a good silencing charm. You’re prefects, after all.” Bill says, before jumping up and going back to his friends on the other side of the room. 

”Should we go back then?” Ellie asks, finishing off her drink as Charlie does the same. 

”I guess yeah, I could do a party.” 

They make their way back up to the castle, chatting lightly and decidedly avoiding any topics that could get too deep. So, you know. Back to normal.   
  


* 

When they get back at 7:00 the Hufflepuff common room is in full swing. The younger students have all taken refuge in their dorms, a few of the braver fourth years staying for the festivities. If anything, the Hufflepuffs can really throw a party. They mingle with their friends, laughing and chatting and drinking just enough that they’re red-cheeked and giggly. Tonks and Tulip are running around like madmen in their element of chaos. Penny’s in the corner flirting with Murphy, which is a very interesting development that they’ll definitely be talking about later. There’s 6th and 7th years hanging in a group, playing some drinking game improvised from exploding snap. She loses Charlie to an arm wrestling match with Barnaby, Rowan beside them cheering them on, and then Liz to a Slytherin boy she doesn’t know very well, and then Andre to a 6th year Gryffindor chaser who’s been eying him since their game. She stands off to the side for a moment, enjoying a quick second of peace amongst the chaos. She watches all her friends around her laughing and having fun, basking in her happy, wine fuelled calm. She doesn’t get to let her brain shut off like this often. It’s nice.   
  
She’s watching Penny and Murphy talk, Penny now perched on his lap with one of his strong arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Definitely a development she can get behind. She’s started investing herself in this now, imagining what kind of conversation they might be having when a pair of huge, warm arms wrap around her from behind. She melts into them, the familiar, sweet smell of grass and honeysuckle making her powerless to do anything else. 

”You looked lonely Bells,” Charlie whispers against her ear, and her stomach flutters. _Bells._ Surprisingly, no one else has ever called her that before. El, Ellie, Els, Elizabeth when her parents are mad, but one of the first times she ever had a real conversation with Charlie it seemed to almost slip out, and he’d called her that ever since. It makes her want to kiss him, and that’s a dangerous thought for the present moment. 

“Mmm,” she hums, instead of word vomiting all of her feelings, “I’ve been watching Murphy and Penny, they’re cute.” 

Charlie follows her gaze, watching them with her for a moment. 

”You’re right. They’d be a nice couple.” 

She lets her head fall back into his shoulder, feeling more drunk off his smell and his strength and his voice than anything alcohol has ever shown her. She wants to tell him that he’s pretty, and that he smells good, and that she wants to kiss him. 

”You’re warm,” is what she says instead, snuggling back into his arms, which squeeze around her gently. One hand rubs back and forth almost imperceptibly on her waist. It makes her whole body tingle. 

He’s been drinking too, she can tell, even though he’s definitely not drunk. More loose and affectionate than he normally would be, goofier and louder and more outgoing. 

”Are you drunk love?” Charlie wonders gently to her, and she shakes her head no.

”Just happy, relaxed. It’s been a good day, I dunno.” 

He makes a vague noise in agreement, tightening his arms around her more and pressing even closer, bodies lined up front to back, his nose pressed into her hair. She wonders if she smells half as good to him as he does to her.

She feels like her skin is on fire. 

“Head’s up!” Tonks yells, and something alarmingly lime green and hairy goes whizzing past their heads. They realize then that they’re in the middle of a crowded room and attracting more than a few appraising looks, awkwardly detangling and leaving a few inches of breathing room between them. Almost immediately, they’re saved by Andre loudly announcing a game of spin the bottle, so what the hell. They’re teenagers, and she definitely wouldn’t object to taking out some of her raging Charlie tension before she explodes. 

It ends up being mostly 5th and 6th years, so they sit in a big circle on the floor, an empty brown butterbeer bottle placed in the middle. She sits down between Charlie and Tonks, laughing while they wait for everyone to settle. Andre starts, pecking a 6th year Hufflepuff named Violet politely and chastely on the lips. Next goes Tulip, laughing as she kisses Jae, who both look equally unaffected by each other. Then Penny, who spins it to herself three times before declaring that it means she gets to pick who she kisses, standing up to plant a long, dirty kiss on Murphy. They don’t come back to the circle. Ben kisses a 4th year Hufflepuff boy on the cheek. Barnaby spins and lands on Charlie, and they make a show of kissing loudly and sloppily, laughing uproariously the whole time. Then Tonks kisses a 6th year Ravenclaw girl, and then it’s her turn. It spins, and spins, and lands on... Barnaby. Well, okay. Apart from Rowan, Bill and Penny, Barnaby’s become one of the people she’s closest to, and it’s not like he’s bad looking in the slightest. He takes her hand and stands up, dropping her into a dramatic dip and planting a kiss on her that takes her breath away, and she kisses him back eagerly. She’s bent over backwards, clinging desperately to his shoulders as he kisses the life out of her, their friends whooping and cheering all around them. Barnaby definitely doesn’t do anything by halves. He pulls her back up and twirls her, bowing dramatically before sitting back down. She shakes her head at him, a stupid grin on her face. Fucking Barnaby. That boy can put a smile on her face without even trying.

She looks over at Charlie now, his smile forced and his posture stiff. He spins the bottle, seeming almost reluctant now, and it lands... on a cute, petite Gryffindor named Lisa. She feels her stomach turn, and watches as Lisa crawls across the circle, grabs Charlie’s face and kisses him sloppily and for far too long (in her opinion anyway). Charlie sits back down beside her and offers her a sheepish smile, and she’s sure her returning look could only generously be described as a queasy grimace. Fuck. 

The game moves on but the rest of the night feels like a blur, and she decides that spin the bottle is the worst game ever. She sneaks back to Ravenclaw house with Tulip, Rowan and Andre around 1:00 am, after not so smoothly avoiding all contact with Charlie for fear of puking or crying, or both. She’ll get over it. She always does. After all, they both kissed Barnaby too.   
  


* 

Except now, apparently, they aren’t talking. It’s been a week, and Charlie is still avoiding her at every turn. She’s already blubbered all over Bill and Barnaby, who’ve offered to lock him in a dungeon until he stops being a prick. It’s a tempting offer. The cold shoulder hurts, but she hardly knows what she even did to warrant it. They both kissed people, which is perfectly fine. They aren’t a couple, not even close. They’re best friends who don’t talk about their feelings, and thats fine. It’s fine. Whatever. They always find a way to work it out.  
  
Still, it’s somewhat of a surprise that Charlie plops down beside her in the grass one day while she’s in the creature paddock, playing with her knarl on an unseasonably warm Sunday afternoon. 

”Who’s this then?” he says, forgoing any pleasantries and immediately getting acquainted to the creature.

”Carl,” Ellie answers back, her eyes trained determinately forward on her creature.

Charlie looks at her, all crinkle-nosed amusement.

”You named your Knarl Carl?” He asks, laughter in his voice.

”Of course I did Charles. It’s perfect for him, keep up.”

”Of course you did,” he shakes his head at her and they sit in silence for a few minutes before he talks again. 

“Barnaby told me he’d punch me in the face if I didn’t stop being a dickhead, and Bill threatened to lock me in a dungeon.” 

”Good,” she answers immediately, and Charlie nods like that’s the kind of answer he was expecting. 

”Barnaby’s a fucking class kisser, isn’t he?” Charlie asks, and Ellie bursts out laughing against her residual stubborn desire to stay mad at him until he apologizes properly.

”He is, yeah. The boy aims to please.” 

Charlie hums, scratching Carl under his tiny chin. Of course Carl loves him already, the traitor. 

”Lisa’s a terrible kisser,” he says after a pause, his eyes still on the Knarl. She lets hers stray to him finally. 

”Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he shrugs. 

”She’s pretty,” Ellie says, keeping her voice neutral. 

”So’s Barnaby,” Charlie throws back. 

This time Ellie shrugs. 

”He’s Barnaby. He’s one of my best friends.” 

”Am I one of your best friends?” Charlie asks, and she’d tease him about the question if he didn’t actually sound vulnerable when he asked. 

”You know you are Charlie.” She says firmly, pulling up handfuls of grass fitfully, “you, and Rowan, and Bill, and Penny, and Barnaby.” 

He nods. 

”I was a dickhead this week.”

”Yeah.” 

“Come ‘ere,” he pulls her into his side for a hug and she goes with little resistance. It’s unfair how much she missed him. But it’s Charlie, and she knows that’s as much of a verbal apology as she’ll get from him. So she hugs him back, and he rests his chin on the top of her head, and they sit like that for a good long while before wandering into the forest to say hi to the Bowtruckles. They’re fine. They always are. 


	2. Bad Moon Rising

She knows that she’s a lot more used to this situation than most of her other friends. To be fair, it’s not a reasonable request to expect any teenager to be fine after duelling and betrayal and dragons and near death. And she knows she isn’t fine either, not really. But watching her friends become people she barely knows is something that she really doesn’t know if she can handle. Charlie’s even more withdrawn, Merula’s worse than ever, and Ben’s become completely unrecognizable. The only ones who seem to even sort of be handling it are herself and Bill, and that’s only because they have each other to talk about it with. 

It’s June now, the weather beautiful, exams done, and the mood is alarmingly melancholy still. Charlie’s been around, but it feels like two years of breaking down walls and building a friendship have been completely paved over, and I t’s not just her either. He’s shutting out everyone, acting like he’s completely fine, but they know him better than that. They’re having a surprise goodbye party for Bill tomorrow, which is more than bittersweet. Ellie and Charlie are doing all the organizing, which has been an excruciating process. She really doesn’t know how she’ll get through the next two years without Bill, let alone how to handle Charlie in his foul-tempered seclusion on her own. 

Ellie sits by the lake now, reading a letter that Harold, her Barn Owl, had dropped on her tomatoes at breakfast. It doesn’t make her day better.

Her parents are in Arizona, and had been since March, apparently.

That’s news to her.

Her dad is on contract with International Magical Law Enforcement, and they’ll be there until November at least (at least!). She can come stay with them if she really needs to, but they would very much prefer if she could find somewhere to stay at home. It would be much better for them and much easier to manage, if she could be somewhere else.

That’s... definitely one of the more hurtful things her mother’s ever put in a letter. No “I miss you” or “I can’t wait to see you” or even an “I love you.” Her mum was always such a good mom, but when Jacob left, it tore her apart. She’s honestly surprised her parents’ marriage survived it. But her mother seems to get colder and more disconnected as years go by, her father throwing himself into his work to avoid thinking about his own feelings or anyone else’s. Fuck. It’s not been great, summers at home, but she’s never felt outright like a burden before. She’s so caught up in her thoughts that she misses the crunching rocks and looming shadow until a huge, warm body settles in beside her.

”Hey El,” says Barnaby, throwing a lazy arm around her shoulders. She bursts into tears, this newest rejection from her parents compounding on the stress of the vault and her brother and her friends.

”Woah hey, what’s going on?” He asks softly, pulling her in tightly and letting her cry on his shoulder. She thrusts the letter into his hand, sniffling. He reads it through, his brow knit tight. 

”Fuck,” is what he says. And fuck is right. She doubles down on her sobs. She knows Barnaby can’t exactly offer up his place for the summer. He’d really rather not be there himself, let alone drag other people into it with him. So he lets her cry, and when her sobs die down to hitching sniffles he pulls away with a comforting rub across her back.

“Come on,” he says, and offers out a hand to pull her up. He rips the letter clean in half, and hands her one side before continuing to rip his own into smaller bits. She follows suit, shredding her own into the tiniest bits she can manage. He tells her to hold out her hands, and dumps the tiny shreds of parchment into her palms. He pulls out his wand and levitates them, pulling her a few steps back before lighting them on fire in mid-air. He wraps an arm around her shoulders again and she leans into him as they watch it burn. She hasn’t felt this comforted in years.

”If I’ve learned anything in the past five years,” Barnaby starts quietly, “it’s that the only family that really matters is the family we choose, and the family who chooses us back. So many people love you, El. We’ll always choose you first, and I know you’ll always choose us back. You’re my family, and I hope you know that we’ll always be yours.” 

Her tears start up again, but quiet and soft now, letting Barnaby hold her close. He’s grown so much in the last couple years, and really come into himself. She doesn’t know what she’d do without him at this point.

“Having a cozy little campfire, are we love birds?” 

Barnaby stiffens, instantly angry and ready to jump into a fight. The voice is loud and mean, mocking, but she knows it’s Charlie without having to turn around. Ellie sighs, making a feeble attempt to wipe the tears from her face before dealing with him. 

“Don’t stop on account of me, I’ll just stay for the show. You can sing some songs and have a good snog. Hell, maybe we can even invite some more to join in El, if you’re snogging anyone you come across these days,” says Charlie sarcastically, and on a good day she could deal with it, but it was very much not a good day. He’s never been mean like this before, and she doesn’t think it’s a development she could ever deal with if it turned into a permanent one. Despite her best efforts there seems to be no stopping her tears, so she takes a deep breath and turns around to look at him, face blotchy and wet, eyes red and tears still streaming down uncontrollably. He stops dead in his tracks, face morphing into regret and concern the second he gets a good look at her. Good. He should feel bad. She’s seething. 

”Class,” she says, and her tone is just as scathing, “I’ll just get my fucking kit off and let anyone who walks by have a go then, shall I? Since I’m such a fucking slag. Shove it up your arse, Weasley.” 

They all stand there silent and motionless, Barnaby’s fists clenched tight and tears still streaming helplessly down Ellie’s face, Charlie’s arms dangling by his sides uselessly. This isn’t going anywhere, and she’s not going to hang around for their sake. She grabs her bag off the ground, storming back to the castle. Charlie and Barnaby both watch her all the way back before turning to face each other again.

”Wha—“ Charlie’s question is cut off abruptly by Barnaby’s fist, connecting directly with his cheek bone and the side of his nose. 

”AGH! WHAT THE FUCK!” Charlie shouts, bent over forward as blood streams out of his nose. 

”I told you what would happen if you didn’t stop being a fucking dickhead.” Barnaby says, shaking out his fist, “and people call me thick. Pull your head out of your arse, Charlie.” 

”But what was even wrong?!” 

Barnaby raises his eyebrows at him, giving away nothing. 

”Maybe you should ask her yourself, instead of trying your best to make her feel like shit every time you’re near her.” 

“I’ve been... Dealing with some stuff.” 

Barnaby raises his eyebrows at him again, unbudging and unimpressed. 

”We’ve all been dealing with some stuff Charlie. Ellie’s been doing this since she was eleven, and gets all the fallback and scrutiny every time, even though she’s never alone and always doing it to help people she loves. She never complains, and she fucking keeps doing it and pushing through because she’s stronger than all of us combined. ‘Dealing with some stuff,’ honestly. Fuck off mate. You want to deal with some stuff? Fucking talk to your fucking friends instead of calling the girl you’re in love with—“ 

“I’m not in love with her!” Charlie protests feebly, his face unconvincing, but Barnaby just gives him a withering look and continues on like he hadn’t spoken. 

”—Instead of calling _the girl you’re in love with_ a slut while she’s crying because you’re a jealous dickhead. Like you’re perfect. Imagine if she talked to you like that every time she saw you go off with another girl in front of her? Hooking up with anyone that looks your way like you don’t know she sees it, like you don’t know how much you hurt her. You’re my best mate Charlie, but so is she. And Ellie’s not the one who’s wrong here.” 

Barnaby leaves him with that, storming back to the castle after Ellie.

Charlie sits by the water until the worst of the bleeding stops, then syphons off as much blood as he can and makes his way back to the hospital wing, vaguely mumbling answers to Madam Pomfrey’s fretting questions as she sets his broken nose and dabs at his eye with something smelly on a cotton ball.

He knows he fucked up. He knows he keeps fucking up. He knows he deserved it. 

*

Ellie thought she had done a pretty spectacular job at avoiding Charlie for the last twenty-four hours, but he manages to corner her in the Entrance Hall just after lunch. 

”Look Bells-” he starts, and falters when she rolls her eyes at the nickname. Charlie kind of feels like he’s been stabbed, honestly. He’s never seen her do anything but smile at it before, and he rubs a hand against the back of his neck anxiously.

“I know we need to talk, and I know I owe you an apology. But we still have to get things together for Bill’s party, so can we do that first and talk later? I promise we’ll talk later.” 

“Fine,” she says, arms folded across her chest defensively, “but only for Bill, and only because Barnaby’s already punched you, and only if you actually properly apologize.” 

”Yeah, that’s fair,” he agrees sheepishly, “will you come with me? Bill’s in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.” 

She nods and follows him up, the walk to the classroom uncomfortable and silent. They stop at the door, hesitating when they see how sad Bill looks. 

”He’s in a bad way,” whispers Charlie, “can you keep him company and distract him until four? I need to get everyone else together for the party.” 

She agrees and walks into the classroom, stopping a few feet behind Bill. 

”It’s fucking weird, isn’t it?” He says, and he doesn’t even have to look to know it’s Ellie behind him. They might know each other too well.

“—Like she’s just gone to lunch and she’ll be back to teach classes in the afternoon. I don’t know how to process it.” 

”I know what you mean,” Ellie replies, “I can’t get over the feeling that it was all my fault, and now I’m ruining all my friendships because of it.” 

”What? It was in no way your fault El, Rakepick chose us, and betrayed us, and tried to kill us. That had nothing to do with you.” 

”But it does though,” she says, and her voice croaks out, fighting back tears, “I let Ben come even though I knew it was a bad idea, and now he’s not even the same person. Merula’s worse than ever, and Charlie’s cut himself off completely, and I _convinced him_ to come with us, because Penny gets so affected by the vaults, and with Beatrice... I thought he could handle it better, but he won’t even talk to me now, unless he’s hurling insults at me.” 

“You had no way of knowing what would happen Ellie, none of us did. You can’t put that on yourself." he soothes. 

”I’ve just... I’ve ruined everything,” she whispers, and she cracks on the last word, dissolving into tears.

”I lost Jacob again, and Charlie, and Ben, and you’re leaving, and now my parents don’t even want me,” she sobs, curling in on her self and wrapping her arms around her torso protectively.

“Wait, what? What do you mean?” Bill asks, and pulls her over to sit on one of the benches, straddling over it to be able to looks at her properly. 

She tells him the whole story, from the letter, to Barnaby, to burning it, and all the things Charlie said to her (which Bill did not take well at all).   
  
_”That vile little... I’m going to turn him into a slug and feed him to Errol.”_

_“It’s fine Bill, Barnaby already broke his nose.”_

 _“Good. I still might tell Mum and watch him die.”_  
  
They talk about Bill’s job starting in August, and all of his fears, and all of hers, and by the time the conversation winds down they’ve been talking and crying and hugging for two full hours. 

“Thanks El, I really needed that. Do you want to head to the Thee Broomsticks and grab a drink?” 

She freezes, grappling for an excuse.

”I... yes. Sure. I just... have to run some errands first? Yes. So you should come with me! And then we’ll go.” 

He looks at her skeptically but agrees, and she takes him on such a wild goose chase for the next hour and a half that he takes pity on her and tells her that he knows about his party. 

”I heard you and Charlie talking,” he admits, “you aren’t exactly quiet.” 

She sighs, but checks her watch and agrees. It’s close enough to four anyway, and they should all be ready. 

Bill does a terrible job of acting surprised, but it’s a fun party either way. Once Bill is distracted enough with his friends and family, Charlie pulls Ellie off to the side to talk, sitting at their favourite seats in front of the fire with their mugs of butterbeer. 

”I’m sorry,” Charlie says without any preamble as soon as they’re settled, “I was completely out of line. I kind of still just see the two of you kissing in my head when you’re together, but I know that’s on me, not on you. I never should have spoken to you like that, and I never will again. If I do, Barnaby can break more than just my nose. I’ve been having a rough time dealing with everything that happened, and I know that’s not an excuse, and that you are too, and I know I’ve been avoiding everyone. I just kind of... lost it, I dunno. Either way, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you and I’m really, really sorry.” 

He takes a deep breath after he’s finished, and she really is kind of impressed. That was a pretty grade A apology, considering how infrequently and begrudgingly he usually gives them. But it mostly just makes her think that he’s actually upset about what he did, and that’s enough for her. 

”Thanks Charlie,” she says with a weak smile, “I appreciate it.” 

”Can I... Can I ask why you were crying?” 

She lets out a long breath, taking a hefty swig of her butterbeer before speaking. 

“I got a letter from my parents yesterday. It’s the first proper letter I’ve gotten from them since Christmas. Apparently they’ve been in America for months, and they probably will be for a year, and they only just told me now. They don’t... want me to go there. My Mum said I should find somewhere to stay, because it would be easier and better for them, if I left them alone basically, so.” 

Charlie hisses in a sharp breath, his eyes sad and face focused intently on hers. It kind of just makes her want to start crying again. He knows that it’s been getting worse with her parents.

“So yeah, Barnaby found me there, and was talking me through it, and we were burning the letter from my Mum when you, um, came down.” 

His face drops completely then.

”Oh no, oh Merlin I’m such a dickhead. El, I’m so fucking sorry.” 

She shrugs, staring into the fire. She’s not gonna tell him that he wasn’t. They both know otherwise.

“Jesus, if my Mum ever found out how terrible I’ve been to you she would kill me.”

“I wouldn’t rule it out just yet. I told Bill yesterday and he threatened to tell her. That and turning you into a slug.” 

He rubs a hand over the back of his neck sheepishly, his whole face red.

”We both know I would deserve it.” 

Charlie sits across from her, seemingly lost in his thoughts for a moment before leaping up from his seat. 

”Stay right here, I’ll be right back,” he runs over to Bill, and she barely even has time to process it before a large shadow is looming before her. 

”Elizabeth Holmes,” growls Mad-eye Moody, “I’m gonna need you to come with me” 

She’s shocked, but accepts the gnarled hand when it’s offered to her, and they disapparate. 

Moments later Charlie returns to their table, but the newly formed smile on his face quickly vanishes again. Their half-finished drinks still sit on the table, but Ellie is nowhere to be seen. He plops down into his chair, defeated. 

”Fuck.”   
  


*  
  


She has to say, that had definitely been one of the weirdest nights of her life. The first thing Mad-eye did was berate her for apparating with a complete stranger without asking any questions. But she has a lot to think about now. Mad-eye returned her directly to Dumbledore’s office, and once she’d finished talking to him it was nearly midnight. Confused and overwhelmed and exhausted, she climbed into bed fully clothed. Her night had been so eventful, in fact, that by the time she was awake and down at breakfast, she had forgotten why her friends would have a reason to be worried about her. The moment she walks through the doors of the Great Hall, though, Bill and Charlie pounce on her like anxious parents.

”Where did you go?!” Demands Bill, “We were so worried.”

Uncharacteristically, the first thing Charlie does is wrap her in a desperate, crushing hug.

”I thought I’d managed to upset you more and you’d just left,” he explains, “but then _no one_ could find you, and with Rakepick out there...” 

He doesn’t finish his sentence, but she knows what he means. She’d be scared too. 

“I’m sorry I scared you guys, but I promise I’m fine.” 

She explains everything that happened, minus the things that Moody made her swear to secrecy, and they seem at least momentarily appeased as they make their way to the Ravenclaw table to sit with their friends. After breakfast, Charlie takes the opportunity to pull her aside again. He’s getting annoyingly good at cornering her after meals. 

”Will you come with me?” He asks shyly, extending a hand out for her. She takes it, and the familiar warmth and roughness of his palm as he guides her outdoors sends shivers down her spine. 

Fuck his dumb, attractive hands. 

He lets her go once they’re out the front doors, and they walk through the grounds together, stopping eventually to sit on a grassy hillside overlooking the lake. He looks at her hesitantly for a moment, before taking one of her hands again. Ellie looks off to the side, hiding her pleased smile. 

”So,” he starts nervously, running his thumb over the top of her hand, “I talked to Bill yesterday, and then we both talked to my Mum and Dad, and they agreed, and it’s kind of small, but Bill and I can share! And Mum’s already fussing, but she does that—“ 

“Charlie,” she cuts him off, eyebrow raised, “is there supposed to be a part relating to me in there?” 

”Right, yeah,” his ears pink, and he clears his throat, “would you, if you want, that is, you can come stay with my family for the summer. And um, with me. Since you need a place to stay, and Bill will still be there for a month. Um, but yeah. We told Mum and Dad that you found yourself... quite suddenly without somewhere to be for the summer, and they said they would love to have you, said you were really lovely and that she thought you were really good for us. I mean, like, me and Bill, um,”

He trails off awkwardly, his cheeks flushing under the constellations of his freckles. She can’t help it. An enormous smile had taken over her face the entire time he’d been talking. 

”Are you sure Charlie? That you want me to come stay?” She asks hopefully.

”More than sure. I really, really want you there. We can make up for all the time I spent being a moody git this year.” 

Ellie giggles, throwing her arms around him and tackling them back onto the grass, hugging him tight, her head lying on his chest. 

”Thank you,” she whispers, and she feels his heart rate pick up as her hand slides absentmindedly across his muscular chest. He squeezes her tight by way of response, letting the arm wrapped under her rub in slow circles on her back.

It’s really no one else’s business how long they stay like that. 

* 

As much as she hates to admit it, leaving day is more exciting for her than it’s been for years. She’s going to a home with two of her favourite people, in a house full of love and noise and activity. It’s exactly what she needs right now. 

Even the mood in the train is lighter than any of them have felt in months, Rowan and Penny and Barnaby and Charlie and Bill and Ellie and Andre all crammed into one compartment. Technically, half of them should still be on prefect duty. But it’s the end of the year, no one really minds that much. They laugh and talk, munching on sweets and sandwiches and sipping on bottles of butterbeer, and it’s so lovely that they can almost forget how hard the year had been. It’s good. 

They step onto the platform at King’s Cross, feeling as though they’d only just gotten on. They all hug each other and say their goodbyes, before Ellie and the three Weasley boys wander through the crowd to find the rest of the Weasley family standing by the barrier, six more shocks of red hair greeting them.

Mrs. Weasley immediately wraps Ellie up in an enthusiastic hug, filling her with the kind of love and calm that only a truly good hug can give you. Mrs. Weasley lets her go after several moments, cupping her face with her hands gently and looking her over appreciatively. 

”We’re very glad to have you with us this summer Ellie, you’ve made an incredible impression on my boys.” 

”Thank you, Mrs. Weasley, for letting me stay on such short notice. I really appreciate it.” 

”Not at all dear, and call me Molly. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she smiles at her warmly, and then turns back to her swarm of children, everyone taking turns hugging all the others. Bill ends up with Ginny on his back, Charlie holding Ron’s hand while his little brother chats his ear off, Percy walking along with his father and Ellie has the twins staring at her appraisingly as they walk out to the parking lot, cramming themselves into a pale blue car that had to have been modified quite generously to fit them all in it. 

She ends up sitting comfortably between Bill and (she thinks) Fred in one of the benched rows of seats. Fred looks at her curiously again, before blurting out loudly, 

“Are you Bill’s girlfriend?” 

It startles a surprised laugh out of Ellie, but she thinks she’ll probably like the twins a lot. 

”No. No, I’m not Bill’s girlfriend,” she says, good natured amusement in her voice. 

George (she’s pretty sure) twists around in the row ahead to look at her, and tilts his head to the side. 

”Are you Charlie’s girlfriend then?” He asks, and she sees the tips of Charlie’s ears turn pink where he sits beside his brother. Her laugh is a little more forced this time. 

”No, I’m not Charlie’s girlfriend either.” 

”Are you sure?” 

”Why are you staying with us then?” 

”Didn’t you give Charlie that dragon scale? He never shuts up about it.”

She turns to Bill with pleading eyes just as Charlie turns to smack his brothers, and in a instant both twins questions turn to angry gibberish as their tongues are now firmly stuck to the roofs of their mouths. 

“Leave her alone guys, it’s none of your business,” Bills says, and they turn their looks to him mutinously. 

The commotion draws Mrs. Weasley’s attention from where she sits in the front with Arthur and Ginny, scolding all three of them at once as soon as she sees what’s happening. 

”Just because you’re of age now Bill doesn’t mean you can go around cursing your brothers. They can’t use magic, and that’s not fair. I don’t know what you did to deserve it, you two, but if it has anything to do with Ellie you’ll both be cleaning out the chicken coop for a month.” 

”They were bothering her about who she’s dating and why she’s spending the summer with us,” says Bill, casually flicking his wand to let his brothers’ tongues free. 

”Well we were just _wondering,_ ” says Fred, both twins still glaring daggers at Bill. 

”And I told you it’s none of your business, leave the poor girl alone,” Mrs. Weasley chides with finality before turning to her second oldest son, “Charlie, what’s wrong with you now dear? You’re all red.” 

The twins snicker and Charlie flushes an even deeper shade of red, muttering that it’s nothing. Bill elbows Ellie in the ribs, smirking. She joins the twins and glares at him too.

It’s going to be a fun summer, but it’s going to be a long summer. 


	3. Dancing in the Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Very Weasley Summer.

### The Burrow

She’s only been here once before— for Christmas a year ago— but getting to The Burrow feels like coming home. She tries not to think too hard about what that means. 

It’s complete madness the moment the car doors open, the restless younger kids running off wildly after sitting still for so long, Bill and Mr. Weasley levitating everyone’s trunks into the house, while Mrs. Weasley hurries Ellie inside, already fussing over her as Charlie hovers around them anxiously. 

”Now dear, Bill has the biggest room, so Charlie will stay in there with him, and you can take Charlie’s room. As soon as he tidies it up, that is,” she turns to glare at her son, who looks like he wants to roll his eyes but won’t dare to. Bill and Mr. Weasley walk in with all the trunks then. 

Bill peels off with their three still floating along beside him.

”Come on then El,” he says, nodding his head toward the stairs, “we’ll show you where you’re staying.” 

They trudge up the several flights of stairs to Charlie’s room with Ellie’s things, Bill dropping off his and Charlie’s trunks in his own room on the way. Her trunk settles on the neatly made bed, which Mrs. Weasley had clearly just set up for her. She looks around, taking in the room. It’s very, very Charlie, and she loves it instantly. 

Books lie on every surface, stories and field guides and note books and encyclopaedias, books about plants and books about creatures and innumerable books about dragons. The walls are painted a very calm sage green, covered in anatomical posters and drawings of different dragons, their eggs and their prints. One section of wall is dedicated entirely to Quidditch, with a snitch framed carefully in a glass display, a year carved into a small plaque on the front. She thinks it must be the first one he’d ever caught. There’s a Gryffindor banner hung carefully over his door, and a chaotic family photo sitting on his dresser. It’s fairly neat, disregarding a few stray socks and papers, and there’s bright, happy afternoon sunlight streaming through the window. She turns back to look at Charlie where he hovers by the door, shifting nervously as he watches her take everything in, Bill conspicuously absent for the moment.

”Sorry about the dragons,” he says, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, “I know it’s kind of weird, and probably a bit much—“

“It’s perfect, Charlie, I love it.”   
  
His cheeks flush pink again, and she might make it a game with herself to see how often she can make that happen. She turns back to the wall, studying the dragon posters. They’re beautiful illustrations.

”These are really lovely,” she comments, running her index finger along the parchment beside a welsh green, who chases her around the page. 

”I’m glad you like them. When I’m old enough, and have enough money, I’d like to get some tattooed. There’s a shop in Diagon Alley, and you can get some really neat spells attached to them.”

”That sounds really cool,” she turns to him, looking over his body appraisingly, “It would suit you well, I think.” 

”Thanks, Mum’ll hate it, but—“ 

She cuts him off mid-thought with a crushing hug. Startled, he wraps his arms around her hesitantly, patting her shoulder as she squeezes him around the middle. 

”Thank you, again. This is all so amazing. I don’t think you know how much it means to me that I can stay here.” 

”I’m just glad I can help,” he squeezes her back, letting his eyes shut as he breathes in the sweet peppermint smell of her hair. He holds her close, and they end up so wrapped up in each other that they don’t notice another presence until Bill clears his throat, and they leap apart.

”Coming down for dinner then?” He asks, face full of amusement as he watches them squirm.

”Yeah yeah, go on then,” says Charlie, waiting a few carefully selected moments for the other two to walk down the stairs before adjusting the front of his trousers and following them down. 

Merlin, it’s going to be a long summer.   
  


*  
  


Ellie doesn’t think she’s been this carefree since Jacob left, so many years ago now. It’s been two weeks of bliss, playing Quidditch in the Orchard and helping with the chores, running around with the twins and letting Ginny play dress-up with her, doing their hair and make-up before goading one of her brothers into it too. Charlie lets them french braid his hair occasionally, at first with the excuse that it might keep his mum from trying to chop it off, and then because he took to it. Ellie finds that she doesn’t mind this development at all. She loves his long hair, and has become quite attached to the braids. 

She’s glad to have a whole month of virtually uninterrupted time with Bill as well, before he goes to start his new job. 

But her favourite parts are becoming the evenings, when everyone is fed and feeling lazy, gathered in the living room drinking tea before bed. It’s cozy, and comfortable, and everything that she thinks being a family should look like. 

Charlie also seems happier, although the two of them haven’t had a lot of time to spend on their own, strictly speaking. But it’s fine for now. Their friendship is strong and they’re closer than ever. It seems, though, that Charlie’s getting antsy with so many people around all the time. He’ll find moments to talk to her alone, in far corners of the garden or in hallways, before another Weasley of some shape and size comes wandering across their path obliviously. Maybe she’s just projecting, but it’s starting to feel like they’re both oozing desperation. Bill thinks so, but Bill always thinks so. She doesn’t really trust his judgement on the matter. 

That leads them to where they are now, anyway. Halfway through July, the days hot and long, the nights warm and windy and scattered with fireflies. They’ve all just gotten their OWL and NEWT results, and everyone is pleased. Ellie managed 8 outstanding and 2 exceeds expectations, but those are in History of magic and divination, so she’s really not that upset about it. Charlie got all outstanding, the bastard, and Bill did too, but that’s to be expected. It puts them all in very bright moods, and Mrs. Weasley insists on making a celebratory feast, which means fruit picking. 

She finds the farm work rewarding, especially doing it all without magic. She’s been spending time helping Mrs. Weasley and Ron and Ginny tend to the gardens, or picking apples and gathering eggs.

Today she’s up in a cherry tree, picking fruit for pie. She’s nearly done when Charlie walks by, shirtless and sweaty, wearing a pair of cut off jean shorts and carrying an axe and a shovel. For the love of Merlin. 

He’s been digging out tree stumps to make room for new fruit trees, and apparently the next one is a row over from where she sits in her cherry tree. He hasn’t noticed her yet, and gets straight in to shovelling out the dirt around the base. Fuck. She admires the way his muscles shift under smooth, freckled skin, his muscular stomach heaving with his breaths, his hair pulled back into a half-formed bun. He looks like something she’s dreamed up. After a few minutes she figures she’s probably spent enough time ogling him, gathering up her basket of cherries and climbing down from the tree. She calls out to Charlie as she walks over to him, and he wipes the sweat off his forehead and smiles broadly when he sees her standing there. 

”Alright Holmes?” He greets, not so subtly scanning his eyes up and down her body, lingering where her cropped white tee-shirt clings to her chest above her navy corduroy shorts. It sends heat pooling in her belly, which she steadfastly ignores in favour of throwing a cherry at him. It flies past his shoulder.

“Alright,” she says, “although you should probably put a shirt on before you turn into one giant freckle.” 

”Why?” he smirks at her, “Distracted?” 

She quirks an eyebrow at him, letting her eyes trail over him in the same obvious way his had. He flexes a little and she giggles, biting her bottom lip as she drinks in his gorgeous body, sweaty and sunburnt as it is. It isn’t hard to get lost in the way his bulky shoulders and biceps shift, the way his toned stomach curves down, the V of his hips like a siren invitation to keep moving lower. Merlin, she needs to stop staring. 

“I don’t know if distracted is the word I’d use, Weasley.” 

She knows she’s being cheesy and obvious, but it’s worth it for the way his look darkens and he immediately steps in closer to her. Merlin, he’s attractive. He smells like grass and apples and musk, like a hot summer day. She wants him to pin her against the cherry tree. 

Instead, she takes a cherry out of her basket and holds it up to his mouth. His lips part just barely, and his eyes flick to the cherry in her hand before sliding to her lips and back to her eyes. He wraps his hand around hers and guides it to his mouth, pulling the cherry off the stem with his teeth. He chews and spits out the pit, smiling smugly at the way she’s watching him with her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. _Fuck_ , she thinks, the only real word her brain can come up with right then. 

”They’re good,” he says quietly, his voice pitched low. _Fuck_.

She doesn’t mean to reach out and stretch a hand across his abs, but that’s where it ends up; palm pressed against the middle of his abdomen, fingers splayed out and pressing lightly against his ribs. His muscles tense and his eyes stay locked to hers, gaze steady and serious, his warm brown eyes mesmerizing. He wraps one rough, warm hand around her wrist, and she curls her fingers on his abs in response, her nails dragging lightly across the skin. He breathes in sharply through his nose and his jaw clenches, his face leaning in closer to hers almost instinctively. She dares to slide lower, fingers brushing against the fuzzy trail of hair below his belly button. _Fuck fuck fuck_.

Her heart is pounding now, so unused to being this bold, and she isn’t even sure if she’s breathing anymore. Charlie’s hand tightens around her wrist like he’s desperately fighting the urge to move her hand lower and losing, his breathing quick and unsteady. 

”Oi! You two! Come clean up and help with dinner!” Bill shouts from across the yard, and just like that the trance is broken — just two sweaty, desperate teenagers standing in an orchard. Ellie can feel his smug look from here, the cock-blocking bastard. 

Charlie drops his head to her shoulder, groaning despondently. 

”I’m gonna kill him,” he pants, gripping at her hips like a lifeline, “I’m gonna murder him in his sleep.” 

Now that the spell of the moment is broken she can feel just how warm she’d gotten and just how fast her heart was beating. She knows she’s flushed, and she feels like she might be shaking a bit. Her whole body feels like the raw end of a nerve. Fuck, she needs a shower. 

She takes an unsteady step back from Charlie, and his face looks tortured. 

”I’d better go,” she says shakily, awkwardly motioning to the basket of cherries, “your mum and I are making pie for dessert.” 

“Yeah, no, you go on, I just... fuck. I need a minute,” he says, scrubbing his hands over his face. She can see fairly clearly just what he needs a minute for. _Fuck_. 

Ellie giggles then, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. 

”I’ll see you at dinner,” she whispers, backing a few steps away before turning completely and walking back to the house. She really, really needs to take a shower. But at least now she knows for sure he wants her back. It’s a good feeling. 

*  
  


She drops off the cherries in the kitchen, then runs upstairs to shower and put on some less sweaty clothes. She walks out of the bathroom in her towel to hurry back to her room, but runs almost full stop into Charlie’s still shirtless chest, her towel slipping dangerously low, because of course she does. He groans, his hands twitching like he wants to reach out for her even though he knows it’s a bad idea. The look on her face tells her that he’s thinking about it anyway. 

”Merlin’s pants Bells, you’re gonna destroy me,” he says, giving her one more pained look before he steps through the bathroom door she’d just left. His shower takes a while.   
  


*  
  


They sit down to a delicious dinner of pork chops and potatoes and veggies from the garden, followed by her very own cherry pie. Charlie sits beside her, his leg conspicuously pressed against her own under the table. Bill keeps throwing them _looks_ , like he knows everything, and the problem is that he pretty much does. That’s mostly her fault, but right now she still doesn’t like it. The rest of the family eats and talks and jokes obliviously, with Charlie and Ellie in their own tense world, and Bill watching them like it’s the most entertained he’s ever been. By the end of the meal she’s sweating.   
  


After dinner that night is calmer than most, at least, Mr. Weasley exhausted from a long day at the ministry and everyone else exhausted from working outside in the heat. Almost all of the Weasley’s head off to bed around nine, leaving Ellie, Charlie and Bill on their own in the living room. It’s still fun, and she loves spending time with them, but the air is thick that day, and they all know it. By nine-thirty Bill gives in, making a big show of getting up and stretching.

”Alright,” he says, “Charlie, I won’t wait up.” 

Charlie flushes pink and grumbles at his brother, but Ellie takes it for the blessing that it is. 

”Thanks Bill,” she says, and he smiles at her. 

”I expect my baby brother’s virtue to still be intact miss, but if it isn’t, at least it isn’t in broad daylight this time,” he chides, winking at them saucily as he walks out of the room. 

”I want to call him a git,” starts Charlie thoughtfully, “and he kind of is. I still haven’t forgiven him for earlier. But at least Bill’s cool.” 

”Yeah,” she agrees, “he is.” 

They sit there awkwardly in silence for a few moments, neither really knowing how to proceed, Charlie bouncing his knee anxiously. 

”Come on,” he says eventually, and reaches a hand out for her. 

She takes it, and follows him outside into the mild summer night. They walk hand in hand out to the pond, sitting far enough from the bank that it’s still dry, listening to the frogs croak and the crickets sing. Fireflies float around them, dancing like stars in their own little universe. It’s a beautiful night. They lie back in the grass, staring up at the night sky.

”Today in the trees,” Charlie starts, “stepping away from you was the hardest thing I’ve done in a really long time.”

“For me too. I wanted you to pin me against the cherry tree,” she says so casually that it pulls a surprised laugh out of Charlie.

” _Merlin,_ Bells,” Charlie curses, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily, “you’re so fucking hot.”

He breathes in deep, running his thumb in slow circles over her hand. 

”I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I met you,” he confesses quietly. Ellie squeezes his hand, staring up into the night. The universe feels easier to tell your secrets to. 

“Me too,” she admits, and more readily than she expected. 

”Remember when you helped me buy that dragon egg?” He wonders, and she says that she does.

“You helped me so much, and we spent so much money, and it wasn’t even real. But then you gave me that Hebridean Black scale. After all that, all the dumb shit you ran around doing for me, you still just did what you could to make me happy, and it was the best gift anyone’s ever given me.” He pulls it out of his pocket, showing it to her. “I keep it with me all the time. I almost kissed you then.” 

“I’m guessing Hagrid killed the mood somewhat.” 

Charlie laughs again, squeezing her hand. 

“A little, yeah.” 

“Sorry,” she says, “That was really sweet, I’m just shit at this.” 

Ellie untangles their fingers, rolling on her side to face him and he does the same, moonlight reflecting in their eyes. Charlie grabs her gently by the waist, pulling her in so they’re no more than inches apart. She rests a hand against his jaw, moving it back to run through his hair. 

”There’s so many times I thought about kissing you, but I was too scared,” she admits, and his hand tightens on her waist, pulling her in as close as he can. She can feel her pulse pounding in her stomach, excited nerves rushing through her as they get closer. She nestles her top leg between his, intertwining their limbs as much as possible.

”You could have.” 

”So could you. But we didn’t know,” she reasons. 

“I want to,” he whispers, and their faces are already so close, she can feel his breath on her skin. She lets her eyes flutter closed. 

”You should,” she breathes. 

And he does. Their lips slot together, soft and warm, and shocks of heated thrill spread all the way down to her toes. It’s better than she ever imagined. She lets her hand slide from his hair down to his shoulder, running her fingers over the tight muscle. 

She opens the kiss and lets her tongue slide against his, hot and soft and good. She groans low in her throat, Charlie’s hand tightening on her waist before he rolls them over, pulling her on top of him. She takes a second to adjust her legs, straddling his hips and planting her hands by his shoulders before reattaching their lips together. Charlie moans quietly now, his hands running over her back and hips and thighs restlessly. Everywhere he touches leaves trails like fire burning over her skin. 

They kiss for what feels like an eternity, bodies moving together, exploring each other with soft noises and clinging touches. It’s late, by the time they make it to their beds that night. 

Ellie lies in her bed, still surrounded by Charlie’s smell, and his sheets, and his things, the ghost of his touch still tingling on her skin. It’s a good day.   
  


* 

The next month is a whirlwind of happiness. Bill is still the only person that knows about them (although they think Mrs. Weasley has her suspicions), so they spend a lot of time sneaking around to secluded corners of the property, or taking refuge in Charlie’s room when they think they can get away with it, trying to find anywhere to have a moment alone to sneak in a kiss or two. It’s exciting and fun at least. 

They train for Quidditch together almost every day, playing two-a-side with Fred and George, Ron and Ginny fluttering around beneath them on brooms so old they won’t rise up more than three feet or go faster than five miles an hour. 

They don’t have to properly say goodbye to Bill until the end of the first week of August, his training happening in London before he goes out to Egypt with his mentor. When he does leave it’s a very tearful affair, with even Charlie rubbing at his eyes after they hug goodbye. The mood for the rest of the day is quite subdued, spending the afternoon sitting by a stream down the road to pass the hours. 

Pretty much the only good thing about Bill leaving is that Charlie gets his own room now. They switch, so that Charlie can have his own room back, and she can stay in Bill’s on the lower floor without feeling as bad. It also means Charlie spends a lot less time taking long showers, which Ellie teases him endlessly about. 

Bill’s room is different, painted ocean blue and just as filled with books as Charlie’s is, but all of them are stacked neatly on their shelves. 

She likes Charlie’s room a lot better. 

Her first night it Bill’s room, she lies on the bed reading, trying in vain to care about her Holiday work when school still feels so far away. It’s a hot, humid night. She has the window thrown open, wearing small pyjama shorts and one of Charlie’s t-shirts, loose and comfortable. 

She may have absconded with a few in the move.

It’s getting late, the clock creeping up on 10:30, and she’s just considering turning in when a paper bird soars through her window. She unfolds it gently, reading the message written in Charlie’s neat scrawl. 

_Everything smells like you, it’s not fair._

She writes one back, smiling giddily. 

_Nothing smells like you anymore, it’s not fair!_

A few moments later another one flutters through. 

_I’m going mad, Bells. I wish you were up here.  
_

_What would you do if I was?_

The next response comes a little slower.

_Anything you want. Anything you’d let me._

She doesn’t write back, but climbs out of bed and transforms, extra glad at times like this that her animagus form is a bird. She flutters onto the window sill, glad to be able to stretch her wings after so many months. She lets herself soar around the property, letting the wind carry her freely before fluttering onto Charlie’s window sill.

He’s there in his boxers, sitting on his bed with his back against the wall, head back and eyes closed. She crows softly to get his attention, and he looks more than startled to see an eagle sitting in his window. She kind of forgets sometimes that people don’t know she can do this. She hops through the window and flutters onto his bed beside him, partly to fuck with him and partly because she knows Charlie is too fascinated by creatures to try to do something to get her out. It’s still a bit of a gamble, but she’s right.

”Hi there,” he says softly, and tentatively reaches out a finger to scratch at the bird’s head, “how did you find my window, hmm?” 

She coos, nuzzling into his hand before shuffling a little farther away from him. 

She lets herself slide out of her transformation, ending up cross-legged beside Charlie on his bed. He looks like he’s trying very hard not to scream.

”Hiya,” she says brightly, “you’re sweet, did you know that?”

 _”Ellie what the fuck_ ,” he whispers urgently, his face a mix between serious shock and incredible excitement, _“since when are you an animagus?!”_

”Since third year,” she says casually, “I’m not registered though, so don’t tell people. Only a couple people know.” 

“How did you even figure out how to do it?” He asks, his eyes wide. 

”I have... a friend. Who is also one, but I can’t say who. They helped me with it. Also Penny, cause there’s a potion, and it’s wicked hard, so she did it for me. And McGonagall knows. She wants me to register, but she won’t turn me in either, so.” 

”That’s Wicked,” he breathes, “Can you do it again?” 

She indulges him, shifting back to her eagle and hopping onto his lap. She spreads her wings for him, letting him look her over curiously, examining her feathers and her wingspan and her beak and her feet. She finds it very endearing. 

”That’s incredible,” he says as she shifts back, his face full of awe, “you’re the fucking coolest person I know.” 

“It comes naturally,” she grins, “now, what was this anything I wanted business, hm?” 

His cheeks pink, suddenly very aware of the fact that he’s in nothing but his thin checkered boxers, her in her tiny shorts and his t-shirt. Merlin, he’s only just noticed that she’s in his shirt. Fuck.

She pulls her wand out of her waistband, setting a silencing charm with a flick of her wrist and placing it down on Charlie’s desk. Bill let it slip that with so much magic around the house, no one really notices if they do simple charms. It was quite a helpful tip.

”The offer stands,” he gulps, and she crawls onto his lap. 

”Kiss me then,” she breathes, running her hands over his shoulders, and then his chest, and then his abs. He’s already excited to see her.

Good. she’s tired of just kissing all the time.

She grinds down into his lap, pulling a desperate groan from him, his hands flying to grab her bum and squeeze, hauling her hips as close to his as he can. She leans in, her lips hovering just inches from his, and whispers against him. 

_”Touch me, Charlie_.” 

He doesn’t disappoint. 


	4. Blue Moon

### Hogwarts, Year 6

The problem with having a really good summer is that being dropped back into reality can set your mind spiralling. 

Don’t get her wrong, Ellie’s excited to see all her friends again. But she and Charlie never actually talked about what they are. She knows she needs to ask, but that doesn’t mean she wants to. They didn’t get to spend the train ride together because of prefect duty, and in the calamity of getting everyone settled in the Great Hall, they barely see each other at all that first day back. It sucks. She wishes they’d talked about it so she could at least know whether or not it’s appropriate to walk over and kiss him in the middle of the Great Hall. It’s more than a little overwhelming.

She misses Bill.

It turns from a day of barely seeing each other to a week, almost exclusively getting time together during Charms or History of Magic or Care of Magical Creatures. 

It sucks more than a little. She feels like they’ve been bumped right back to where they were before. 

Finally on Saturday, Charlie catches her coming out of the change room after her morning Quidditch practice. Ellie smiles at him, but it drops fairly quickly when she sees how grim he's looking. 

“Hey,” he says awkwardly, “Do you want to go the Three Broomsticks?” 

She agrees and they walk down together, holding hands but not talking much. Charlie seems antsy, and she feels vaguely like she might puke. They get settled in with their drinks, and almost immediately Charlie drops a bomb on her. 

”I want to go to Romania. To the dragon sanctuary. Right now.” 

”Charlie... we’re in school,” she says, desperately confused. She doesn’t like the feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

”I know. I want to drop out. I was doing okay at home, with you and my family, but being back here... I’m not handling it well. I still haven’t dealt with everything from last year, and everything's different now, and I just... I don't want to do it anymore. There’s a job opening, and I want to go for it.” 

He seems determined, which makes her heart sink more. 

”Charlie...” she starts, pausing to gather her thoughts and trying to will some more strength into her voice, “I know it's hard. I do. But it's only been a week, and you have to graduate. You _have_ to. If you don’t you’ll be limiting yourself so much.” 

She spends the next half hour talking him into staying, convincing him that he needs to talk to her - or talk to anyone - about things, that running away from his feelings won’t help. That he needs to stay (but leaves out that _she_ really needs him to stay. She just can't do it right now). He agrees eventually, thankfully, but she still can’t shake the feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

_Why couldn’t I be enough?_

Ellie drinks less than half of her butterbeer, her stomach turning over in knots. The summer had been _so good_ , and they’d all been so happy, that now it feels like that never even existed. It feels silly and selfish, but she wishes that Charlie could love her enough to not even consider leaving. They aren’t even properly together though, apparently, so why would he.

She still doesn’t ask about what they are though. She feels too sick for more bad news. He must sense that her mood has turned, because he grabs her hand and stands up from the table. 

”Come on,” he says, and at least he seems to be in slightly better spirits, she notes bitterly, “There is another thing. I have a surprise for you.” 

He kisses her cheek, and they walk back up to the castle. She still feels like she might throw up. 

The surprise, at the very least, is Bill. It’s only been a month, but she feels like a part of her heart has been put back in place. She runs across the classroom, gathering him into a crushing hug.

”Hi curse-breaker,” he says, his voice fond, “did you miss me?” 

”Shut up curse-breaker,” she says back, her watery voice muffled by his shirt, “you know I did. It’s been miserable.” 

They catch up on everything that’s been happening as more people trickle in, before he tells them he’ll be coming back as often as he can to give them proper Defence lessons. It’s the best news she’s had all week. 

*

Of all the weird things they get in to, running around finding ingredients to brew a love potion for a sketchy merchant in Knockturn Alley two weeks into school is not one she’d planned on. 

It does mean she gets a chance to spend some quality time with Rowan again though, for the first time in a while. They both feel kind of bad. Despite good intentions, they’re busy enough to begin with, without all the extra nonsense with the vaults. They catch up, and have a laugh, and Rowan makes her talk about her feelings. Like, really talk about them. She tells her about Charlie, and they talk about Rowan helping out Barnaby, and she realizes how much she misses her best friend. She’s happy that they can still find time to be to themselves. They’re gone for quite a few hours, but it feels like they could talk forever and never get bored. By the time they make it back to castle, Rowan gives her a hug and goes off to find Barnaby again, and Ellie heads to the Artifact room to meet Penny. 

They sit on the floor around Penny’s cauldron and, quite on theme, talk about love. They talk about Penny’s trouble with her sister and her growing relationship with Murphy (she was right, they’re very good together). Then she tells Penny all about her dreamy summer with Charlie (Penny squeals and demands to hear all the stories), and all her new concerns with not knowing where they stand and Charlie wanting to run off to Romania. She hasn’t had this much cathartic conversation and quality time with Penny in a really long time. It’s a nice change, to get a whole day with her best friends, and very needed after sitting on her conversation with Charlie for a week. Penny thinks he’s just stressed and he’ll work through it and she should ask him about it, but she’s still not convinced. 

They think they’ve finally finished, a myriad of interesting smells floating about and befuddling their senses, but it isn’t properly confirmed for them until Charlie walks into the room with Andre with a fresh nose to play victim. Apparently no one’s told him what they’re doing yet, because he looks suddenly very confused. 

”Why does everything smell like Ellie? All I can smell is peppermint and cherries.” 

Penny laughs, long and hard, and Andre smirks at him like he’s really looking forward to the outcome of this. Ellie blushes, secretly very pleased. That tells her more than anything he could have said to her.

”We’re, um, brewing Amortentia. For Jae’s weird contact. So, I guess for you it smells like me,” she bites her lip, smiling at him teasingly, “and cherries.” 

Penny starts cackling as Charlie turns red the way only a Weasley can, covering his face with his hands. 

”I hate you Andre. I’m gonna wait in the hall.” 

Andre lets himself laugh now too, looking very satisfied. 

”I told him it was a surprise, although now I’m really looking forward to the story about the cherries.” 

It is a good story. She’ll tell him later.

She grins at Penny, who laughs at her.

”Go,” Penny says, waving her away, “we’re fine here.”

”Thanks!” Ellie kisses Penny on the cheek and jumps up. She rushes out into the hallway, walking up to Charlie where he leans against the wall. He bites his lip when he sees her, scrunching up his face. 

”Hi,” Ellie says, her voice amused and pleased.

”Hi,” Charlie says back, and he still looks a bit embarrassed. He’s very private even with their friends, so she’s not surprised. It was fucking cute though. 

She kisses him full on the lips, her spine lighting up in tingles as he wraps his arms around her and pulls her tight, the feeling still so exciting even after all these months. She pulls away before they can get too carried away, softening the blow with a few soft, chaste pecks. 

”Can I be honest with you?” She asks, and Charlie furrows his brows, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. 

”Yeah, ‘course.” 

Ellie takes a deep breath, talking to his chest so she doesn’t have to see the look on his face. 

”When you told me you wanted to leave for Romania, I felt like you’d just hit me with a bludger. The last week has been awful, I can barely focus on anything else. I know that that’s where you’ll end up eventually...” she’s rambling, but now that she’s talking she feels like she won’t be able to stop.

“...I know that, and that’ll be fine when it happens. But I just... I didn’t think you’d try to go so soon. I... I wanted to be enough for you. The summer was so good, and I know there’s so much stuff we need to work through, and talk about, but you didn’t even tell me _any_ of it until you told me you wanted to leave me, and—“ 

“Bells, hey,” he cuts her off softly, rubbing up and down her arms and trying to get her to look him in the eyes. She stares determinately at her feet, trying to blink back the tears that had stubbornly sprung up in her eyes.

”I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, come here,” he pulls her into his chest, cradling the back of her head gently. 

“I don’t want to leave you. Never, okay? I’m glad you talked me into staying. I kind of...” he clears his throat, shuffling his feet, “I kind of lost it a little bit when we got back, and got really sad. You were so busy, and Bill’s not around, and Ben is a nightmare to live with now, he’s such a bloody dickhead, and I’ve been trying to talk to Barnaby but every time I look for him I can’t find him bloody anywhere, and it all kind of just made my brain cave in. I really like you, okay? I don’t want that to change. I miss getting to spend every day with you.” 

He rocks them back and forth gently as he holds Ellie tight to his chest, some rogue tears slipping down her cheeks.

“I miss sneaking into your room and kissing you in the orchard,” Ellie sniffs, and he squeezes her. She feels like a pouty child, but it’s been a rough couple weeks, and feeling like she’s losing Charlie when she only just got him has taken a pretty big toll.

She might have some abandonment issues. 

“So you don’t want to call it off with me?” 

”Merlin Bells, no, of course not. Did you not just see me make a full tit of myself in there? You’re the only girl I can even see when you’re with me, and the only one I can think about all the time. I still can’t even _look_ at cherries without getting half hard. I don’t want to lose you.” 

She giggles, wiping her eyes. 

”It was cute. Thank you for publicly declaring that when you smell Amortentia it smells like me.” 

Charlie groans, leaning his head back. 

”You’re mean to me,” he pouts, and she kisses him, giggling again. 

“Sorry for freaking out. I was very stressed.” 

”It’s okay. I’m sorry for freaking out too and making you think I would leave you.”

”We should probably talk about our feelings more.” She sniffs, still refusing to let him go. 

”I know, we will. I promise, okay? We’ll do better.” 

They stay standing in the hall, hugging each other tightly until Penny and Andre stick their heads out, awing at them. Charlie flips them off, grabbing her hand before they turn to walk back down the hall. At least a few of their friends know now. They should probably tell everyone else. They’ll get to it, they have time.   
  


*

As a surprise, Bill took off the following weekend for her birthday, which, in the midst of her inner crisis, she had completely forgotten about. She forgot about _her own_ seventeenth birthday. Luckily, her friends are better to her than she is to herself by leaps and bounds. 

They head down to the Three Broomsticks on Friday evening with as many of her friends as they can gather to celebrate. They eat greasy food and drink way too much, the ones who are still underage sipping at their butterbeer resentfully. Bill declares that she needs celebratory coming of age drinks, and insists that she try some of Rosmerta's best cocktails, on him. She ends up with a French Faerie (made with Champagne, elderflower wine, lemon, and ginger gin - her favourite by far), a dragon tamer (fire whisky and cider - Charlie's declared favourite), a frog breath shot (chocolate and mint liqueur), and a Ravenclaw rain (something very strong, dark blue and raspberry flavoured), before she's pink-faced and giggly and drinking water instead at Madam Rosmerta's insistence. Bill also snuck Charlie some shots of rum in his butterbeer, because Bill’s great like that. Ellie and Charlie sit side by side, running their hands all over each other under the table while Bill, for once in his life, lets them have it and pretends like he doesn’t know what’s happening. Barnaby, Andre, Rowan, Penny, Murphy, Tonks and Tulip sit around the table with them, and she’s happier than she’s been in a very long time. 

As a birthday gift, Charlie shyly gives her a necklace with a tiny silver dragon dangling from it, a red stone set delicately in the heart. It looks pricy, and she assumes Bill’s new salary had more than a little to do with it. She doesn’t cry, but it’s a close thing when he clasps it on. Like, he got her a _dragon_ to wear around her neck. If that’s not a ‘this girl is mine’ signal, then she doesn’t know what is. He also kisses her on the mouth, long and dirty and shameless in front of all of their friends, who holler and cheer and demand to know when _that_ had happened. They definitely still need to talk about it, but that’s good enough for her for now, surrounded by her friends and her Charlie, pleasantly buzzed and basking in the love. 

One development she’s apparently missed in her self-absorbed distress though, is Barnaby and Andre getting closer. She gives them a curious look, Andre winking at her and Barnaby giving her a wide-eyed look that tells her they’ll talk later.

She gets him on his own as they trudge back to the castle in a group, and he nervously gives her a false-confident smile, pulling her out of hearing range from everyone else. 

”Are you okay Barn?” She asks, and he nods. 

”I am yeah, great, actually. I’m, um, Andre and I are seeing each other,” he blurts out anxiously, his whole face turning red, “we were writing over the summer, and he kissed me on the train, and we’ve been dating for almost a month now.”

She stops walking then, looking at him full on, a smile starting to take over her face. 

”So you’re...” 

“Bisexual, yeah,” he finishes for her, shuffling back and forth and avoiding her eye. 

She tackles him in a fierce hug, squeezing him for all she’s worth. His body relaxes somewhat, knowing that she’s taking it positively. It makes her really sad. Barnaby deserves so much love in his life. 

”Thank you,” she says gently, “I love you, and I’m so proud of you. I’m so happy for you.”

He squeezes her back, his breathing unsteady.

”I haven’t had a chance to tell anyone else yet, besides Andre obviously, but I really needed you to know, so like...”

“I won’t say a word, B. Not to anyone, I promise.”

”I love you,” he says shakily, “I missed you a lot.” 

“I missed you too.” 

They separate and he wipes his eyes, laughing at himself, before turning to her with his eyebrows raised. 

”So you and Charlie yeah? Fucking finally.” 

“Shush you, it was a very, very good summer,” she says slyly, and Barnaby’s face turns mockingly affronted.

”Elizabeth Holmes, you dirty girl. I’m so proud. I expect a full rundown of events, especially since you didn’t tell me right away.” 

“I’m sorry!” She giggles, “no one could ever find you anywhere. Too busy snogging, I suspect.” 

Barnaby rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue the point, and she hugs him close again. 

”I really am happy for you. You’ll tell me about it, yeah? And I’ll tell you about our summer.” 

”Yeah, we will love. And thanks, really.” 

She takes his hand and they hurry to catch up to their friends then, laughing all the way. Charlie gives her a questioning glance, but leaves it at that. 

Barnaby was right, this really is her family. 

They’ll be okay. They always are.   
  
  


*

Apparently Barnaby tells Charlie the next day, who says “Hell yeah mate, get it,” before they proceeded to get quite drunk. Boys, honestly.

(she loves them both quite a lot)  
  


  
*  
  


It’s been a really long, really weird week, and she can hardly believe it’s only the first week of October. It’s Sunday night, half an hour after curfew, and she’s lounging happily in the Prefect’s bath, which is blessedly close to her house. She drifts in the sweet bubbles, letting herself relax when she hears the door slide open. She freezes, desperately hoping it’s not a teacher. 

It’s... it’s Charlie, actually, who looks just as pleasantly surprised to see her there. 

”Hi,” she says, giving him a small, private smile. 

”Nice surprise to see you here, we should meet like this more often” he says suggestively, waggling his eyebrows at her. 

”Don’t get too excited, I’m wearing a swim suit.” 

“Damn, me too,” he says, “too many awkward encounters in here not to.” 

She laughs, agreeing, watching as he strips off his shirt and pyjama pants to join her, hissing as he slides into the warm, bubbly water. 

He sits on the low stone bench and she floats over to him, straddling his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck, his arms going instinctively to pull her in by the hips. She’s really, really missed having time alone with him. Their friends will only put up with so much snogging before they start hurling curses at them. 

”Hi,” Ellie says, leaning in to give him one long, deep kiss before pulling back again. 

”Hi,” Charlie says back, light and teasing, “you’re still wearing the necklace.” 

His runs his fingers along the silver chain on her neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he trails his touch along her skin. 

“As if I’m ever taking it off, don’t be daft Charles.” 

He looks pleased, and pulls her in for another longer, dirtier kiss, his hands on her hips gripping tightly. She melts into him, trying in vain to keep herself under control.

”I like it,” he says after pulling away and kissing the tip of her nose, “you wearing something I gave you, I mean.” 

She hums, agreeing. 

”I do too.” 

”I don’t... I don’t want to have anyone else like that. And I really don’t want anyone else to have you like that either. I don’t think I could handle it.” 

He shifts beneath her, awkwardly averting his gaze. She smiles, huge and beaming. 

”Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Charlie Weasley?” 

He looks back at her now, squinting his eyes suspiciously. 

”Not if you’re going to tease me. I was just talking to Barnaby, yesterday, and he wanted to know how I asked you to be my girlfriend, and I said that I hadn’t, and he slapped me — gently, it’s fine — and told me to get my head out of my arse, because you’re great and someone else will definitely go for you, and that made me really mad, so I figured he was right. So. Yes. Please? I... really want you to be my girlfriend.” 

She kisses him hard before pulling him onto the the warm tile floor. She gives him a very definite yes, not so much verbally, but very much with her mouth.

They’ll definitely need to meet in here more often.   
  


*

  
She knew going on this job with Bill would be an adventure, and she knew Charlie was completely irrational when it came to Dragons, but she honestly didn’t think it would go _this_ far. The crazy fucker ran out of the tent in the middle of the night, and told her he needed some time to himself to cool off when she went to talk to him.

He never came back that night. Bloody fucking arsehole. She would be furious if she wasn’t so worried. 

They spent what felt like the entire day fighting off an angry nesting Ridgeback, exhausted and hungry, when they finally heard Charlie yelling for help. She runs into the cave, Bill right on her heel, and drops to her knees when she sees Charlie, hugging him like her life depends on. 

”You bloody dickhead,” she mutters into his shoulder, “I’m glad you’re okay. Come on, we need to go.” 

She tries to pull him up but he winces, not budging an inch. 

”I can’t,” he says desperately, “I fell in the dark and hurt my leg.” 

There could not have been a less opportune moment for a Hungarian Horntail to step through the mouth of that cave. 

”Fucking hell, Charlie. Okay, I can fix it, but you need to hold off the dragon, El,” directs Bill furiously, “it’ll be fine, I just need time.” 

She takes a deep breath in. _Here we fucking go again._

She does everything she can to not hurt it, but protective spells only do so much against an angry dragon. Her shields are getting weaker, and one particularly aggressive attack sends her flying across the cave. 

”I don’t know how much more of this I can take, Bill,” she pants, dragging herself off the floor. 

”Shit, okay. I’m almost done! Just a little bit longer!” 

“A sleeping spell!” Gasps Charlie suddenly, “Try a sleeping spell!” 

She complies frantically and thankfully, _thankfully_ it works. 

She collapses down beside them, utterly exhausted. Merula, Penny and Barnaby come running through the entrance as soon as it’s clear. 

”Merlin Charlie, I could have used that fifteen minutes ago.” 

”Sorry,” he grimaces, “I wasn’t thinking straight. Are we done Bill?” 

”It’ll be good enough for now, but we’ll still need to have you seen by a proper healer. Can you walk on it?” 

They help Charlie to his feet, and he gingerly puts weight on his leg.

”It’ll do, thanks Bill.” 

”Sure,” says Bill testily, angry again now that the immediate danger is gone, “What were you thinking Charlie? You seriously hurt yourself, and we had no idea where you were!” 

”I was just mad, and I wanted to prove myself by finding the egg, and well... I did.” 

He reaches into his bag and pulls out the enormous golden egg. 

“Crikey,” says Bill, his face fully shocked, “That really is Urgruff’s egg. I don’t really want to say good job, ‘cause that was dangerous and stupid, but well found Charlie.”

”I’m glad we’re all fine and happy, but we should really get out of here before that thing wakes up,” Merula points out, an ounce of fear clear through her tough tone.

”He’s not a thing!” Protests Charlie, “I named him Henry.” 

All of them groan except Barnaby, who looks equally as excited by a terrifying dragon named Henry. 

She guesses there’s a reason why they’re such good friends. 

She’ll fuss over him later, but for now she just quietly takes his hand as they walk back to the camp. 

He sits on a boulder as everyone else starts packing up to rest his leg. He looks really, really upset. Ellie and Bill look at each other, silently walking over to him. 

”Hi Dragon boy,” Ellie says, sitting beside him and weaving her fingers through his. 

He gives her a weak smile. 

”Come on mate,” says Bill, “what’s wrong?” 

“I just... I feel like I messed everything up. It was so stupid, to be that upset. And I put you all in danger, and I almost got myself killed.” 

”Well I mean, yeah. Obviously it was stupid Charlie. It was impulsive and insane. But you’re so ready for this, and you were so brave,” Ellie says, rubbing a hand over his knee, “You think I could last a night alone in a dragon sanctuary? Barely, if at all. It’s incredible that you managed it, and you found the egg.” 

“Thanks,” he says glumly, “I still shouldn’t have run off though.”

”No, you shouldn’t have. But Ellie’s right Charlie, you did it by yourself, in the dark, with a broken leg. You did the whole thing! When you’re out of school you’re going to be an amazing Dragonologist.” 

“Thanks guys,” he says, and he looks significantly less glum. 

“Oi! Freeloaders! Are you gonna help us or not?” Yells Merula from where she, Penny and Barnaby are putting away the tent. Bill grimaces. 

”She’s probably right, we should go. The port key will be off soon.” 

Bill walks off, leaving the two of them to a brief moment alone. 

”I’m happy you’re okay, you bloody lunatic. I was so worried about you,” she says, squeezing his hand tight and nuzzling her face into his shoulder. 

”I know, I’m sorry. I really am. I think the world’s way of telling me to fuck off is by giving me broken limbs though.” 

She laughs, kissing him quickly before helping him to his feet. 

”Come on, let’s go home.” 

They walk back to the others and take the port key back to Gringotts, letting out a collective sigh of relief when they’re back on familiar, Dragon-less ground. Also, Griphook wants to give her a job, so that’s wicked. 

Bill had done a perfectly fine job of healing Charlie’s leg, apparently, and just needs a day or two of rest. Still, Ellie takes the opportunity to play nurse, which mostly ends up meaning cuddling in his four-poster bed, and kissing him better every few minutes. Curse breaking isn’t so bad, and neither are dragons. She could even end up in Romania too. They’ll work it out.  
  



	5. The Dark Side of the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SPOILERS. If you aren’t caught up in the game, stop reading now and do that first. It probably won’t make a lot of sense, and you won’t be happy.

  
It’s the worst day of her entire life.

Ellie feels like her head is being held underwater, her chest in a vice, her stomach rolling violently. She’s in shock. Everyone is, but she might be the worst. Must be, because Ben and Merula aren’t here. She doesn’t know where they are, but she really doesn’t fucking care either. Her _best friend_. She keels over on the floor again, sobbing uncontrollably, arms wrapped around herself like it’ll help hold her together, vomiting violently into a bowl every few minutes, Dumbledore silently vanishing it each time. Dumbledore asks if she wants to contact her parents. She doesn’t. They haven’t written her since that letter in June, apart from a very impersonal store-bought birthday card. She asks for Charlie, and for the Weasleys. Dumbledore complies without another word, spinning silently to send for them.

Charlie’s the first to get there, Professor McGonagall at his shoulder. He’s still wearing his pyjamas. He sees her there, curled up and sobbing violently, and then sees Dumbledore’s grave face. He asks what’s going on, and collapses beside her when he gets an answer, pulling her in and cradling her in his arms protectively, crying silently right along with her. They stay like that until Mr. and Mrs. Weasley arrive in their nightgowns, quickly followed by Bill, sweaty and dirty and in his leather jacket. He’d come straight from a job in Spain. She doesn’t feel any of it. She doesn’t even know what the conversation is about anymore. She doesn’t care. She can’t breathe. Her ears are ringing like a bomb’s gone off. 

They take the floo network to the Burrow, Charlie carrying her into the fireplace. Dumbledore thought it would be best to not have her stay at the school that night. He was definitely right. 

Charlie hurries her upstairs and gets her into the shower, trying to warm her up and wipe the worst of the dirt off her hands and face. He changes her into a pair of his soft pyjamas, guiding her to Bill’s room. Bill had transfigured his bed into an enormous one while they were in the bathroom. They wrap her in blankets and flank her on either side, holding her as tightly as they can. She’s not throwing up anymore, there’s nothing left to. But she dry heaves through the night, her body violently rejecting everything she’s just experienced. None of them sleep that night. She doesn’t sleep for more than an hour at a time for a week. 

* 

  
  
They travel back to Hogwarts a few days later for Dumbledore’s speech to the school. Bill had gone back to work the following morning, Mrs. Weasley and Charlie fussing over her and trying to get her to eat, and talk, and sleep, with little success. Now that they’re back at the school it all sounds like white noise. She isn’t crying anymore, but has passed to plain, ordinary shock. People keep trying to hug her. Other people keep trying to talk to her. She really just wants to turn them all off like a light.

Also, everyone keeps trying to tell her that it’s their fault. She really doesn’t have the energy for it. But she isn’t going to keep telling people that it’s her fault, and Rakepick’s fault, and no one else’s. 

  
She thinks she’s really fucking done with Ben though. She and Merula were never close anyway, but Ben has turned into an insufferable nightmare. She doesn’t care that he’s grieving in his own way too. Every time he talks she wants to punch him. He isn’t the same person who became her friend anymore, and she’s finally seeing that clearly.

Now though, she’s somehow ended up at the Three Broomsticks, and Barnaby and Charlie have tasked themselves with keeping everyone else away from her. She drinks whatever it was they put in front of her, her mind vaguely reminding her that she hasn’t eaten yet that day. She still doesn’t really care. Everything stays numb. She knows Barnaby and Charlie are talking like she isn’t there too, but they’re worried about her. That’s fine. They’re the only people she wants anywhere near her, other than Bill. They’re the only ones who aren’t telling her what she needs or how she should feel, and the only ones not asking stupid questions like how she’s doing, or telling her how sad and awful it is that Rowan died.

She’s knows it’s sad and awful. She watched it happen. 

Butterbeer is enough food for that day. At least she keeps it down.   
  


*

Dumbledore has another really long conversation with her. He’s the fourth and only person she wants to talk to right now, for similar reasons. He’s seen terrible things, experienced terrible loss. She can cry, or not, and scream, or not, and he won’t judge her for grieving. It’s exactly what she needs.   
  


He does bring in a healer to see her though.   
  


She now has multiple potions to take a day. One in the morning to make the day bearable and help her eat, a second in the morning to stop the panic attacks, and one before bed so she sleeps. 

She’s still numb, but at least she’s functional now. 

She can see her friends breathe a little easier around her.   
  


*

It’s nice that people want to honour Rowan by avenging her. It is, and she wants that too. But the fact that anyone can feel proactive right now makes her mad. And they still expect her to lead them. Why does it always have to be her? Someone else can come up with ideas for once, at least for a couple weeks. She’s just fucking tired.  


* 

She gets another letter from her parents. They will be in Arizona for a full year, and don’t plan on being back in England until March, at least. Apparently they miss her (finally), and would like her to come visit at Christmas. 

She writes to tell them that she will not visit, but she might see them in the summer. By the way, my best friend was murdered in front of me.  
Cheers, Happy Christmas. 

She gets a letter back from them two weeks later, and burns it before she reads it. She can deal with them in June.   
  


* 

Ellie doesn’t know what she did in this life to deserve Charlie, but she’s never giving him back. He brought Bill back to surprise her and his brothers, he sneaks her into his dorm so they can get some proper sleep together (although she thinks McGonagall is fully aware and turning a blind eye), he takes her to play with her creatures on the worst days, and helps her with her Circle of Khanna plans however he can. 

She’s very, very in love with him. 

There’s no way in hell she’s telling him though. 

Not yet.

She stays with the Weasleys for the holidays, and at least she can stay distracted. She stays in Charlie’s room with him, Bill carefully covering for them both. Her parents are still her parents, but this is quickly becoming her family.   
  


* 

She’s still not fine. She won’t be for a long time. But she is more fine than she was, and people are starting to figure out how to talk to her again. Charlie stays by her side, and luckily she’s friends with most of his dorm mates, who don’t care that she stay over 3 nights a week. They aren’t doing anything for room mates to be upset about right now anyway, but that’s fine. That isn’t either of their priorities right now. Charlie’s patient, and lovely, and throwing himself into everything and everyone he loves, picking up the energy she doesn’t have. The new girl from Brazil brings them some of the joy that they forgot about. Everyone else is focused on supporting each other. Her friends will get her through it, one day at a time. 

They’ll do it for Rowan. 


	6. Under the Cherry Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the draft that's been a draft for far, far too long.

### The Burrow 

So, as much of a disaster as Ellie was expecting it to be, her two week visit in Phoenix with her parents does not go badly at all. They’re still in America, but apparently it’s only because the pay is far too hard to say no to. They give her a huge chunk of guilt money for abandoning her last summer, which she _definitely_ won’t say no to. Both of her parents have been going to therapists, like actual, real, _muggle therapists_ , and they seem happier again. Her mom is talkative and interested, and her dad is talking about his feelings. More than that, they take an actual vacation and show her around America. They talk to her about Rowan, and she tells them about Charlie, (O _f course it’s a Weasley, there are enough of them. At least you picked a good family,_ says her Dad), and they even talk about Jacob. By the time they’re dropping her off at the airport, her heart is feeling lighter than it has in years. 

She flies back to England (on a muggle plane!!), and while she feels better after seeing her parents, seeing Charlie’s grinning face at the airport is what feels like home. 

They apparate to The Burrow — she leads, Charlie’s still sensitive about the old lady incident — and settle in for their last summer of freedom. The first thing she’s faced with is Mrs. Weasley’s comforting embrace, before an immediate barrage of questions about why they didn’t tell her they were together sooner ( _I swear I was going to wait for you to tell her! Bill let it slip!_ ), and a guarantee that she would always be family. She very much cries, then. 

Barnaby stays with them for a good chunk of the summer, and a month and a half with her two best friends is more than she could ask for.

Bill coming home to visit between jobs is the icing on the cake.   
  


  
  


###  Hogwarts, 7th Year, Christmas   
  


Ellie is wracked with Nerves, because she isn’t one hundred percent sure that her present is going to go over well. But Charlie’s _just_ had his 18th birthday, and it’s Christmas in a week. The year before had been such a mess that she hadn't even properly celebrated his coming of age with him, and she still felt horrible about it. Charlie assured her that it was fine, but she wanted to make it up to him as much as she could.

Given the absence of time for anything other than work in 7th year, she hasn’t had a chance to put her plan into action yet. Charlie got a pretty killer blowjob on his actual birthday, if she does say so herself, and he was more than happy to have that be his present. It’s not. But, they’re taking the train into London tomorrow with everyone else, and staying there for a couple days. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley already know her plan, and went along with it ecstatically.

He still has no idea, and she should probably give him at least a day’s notice. They’re lying on his bed, Ellie cuddled into Charlie’s chest, his hand stroking through her hair and his eyes shut, relaxed. It’s a rare moment of peace with no work to worry about. 

”Hey,” Ellie starts, “About tomorrow.” 

“Hmm?” Charlie wonders absently, lazily letting one eye drift open to look down at her. 

“We’re not going straight home. We’re staying in the city for a couple days, so you’ll need to pack a bag.” 

”What? Why?” He sits up fully, looking down at her, his eyes searching. 

”I got us a hotel room for a couple nights. Um, a pretty nice one in Muggle London, and a dinner reservation. And then I have something planned for the next day too. Happy Birthday and Happy Christmas?” She spits out awkwardly. It sounds lamer saying it out loud than it felt planning it. 

”Wait,” Charlie says, fully awake now, “are you serious? That sounds amazing.” 

Thank Merlin. She nods, leaning up to kiss him. 

”I have... a few things I want to give you, actually.” 

”More presents?” He wonders in awe. She smiles wryly at him. He can be kind of thick sometimes, for someone with perfect grades. 

”Something like that, yeah.”   
  


* 

The train ride home feels especially long this time. She and Charlie and Barnaby and Andre end up in a compartment by themselves, so at least the company’s good. The two of them are out to all of their friends now, and a lot of the broader population have figured it out. She loves them both a lot. 

Sometimes, though, having Barnaby be able to tell what she’s thinking at any given time is really, really annoying. She told him about her plan for London, and the shit-eating grin he gives her every time he sees them together is driving her mad. She’d gone to Madam Pomfrey in a panic last week, who told her not to fret and set her on a course of potions to “keep away any unwanted surprises,” along with a lecture about being safe and taking care of herself, and coming back to see her if anything goes wrong. She loves Madam Pomfrey. She’d told Barnaby about it, and he’d burst out laughing, the git. He’s about as subtle as a train wreck now, too. 

”So Charlie,” he says mid-conversation, and she doesn’t like that at all, “any special Christmas wishes this year?” 

Andre knows too, and he elbows Barnaby in the ribs for her. Good. Poor Charlie looks desperately confused. 

”No?” He looks between them, “...Should I?” 

”Barnaby, I swear,” she says, and if looks could kill he'd be flat on the floor. 

”Bells?” Charlie turns to her, face blanketed in concern. Goddammit. 

”I just think you’ll have a really, _really_ good time this holiday, that’s all,” Barnaby says with a self-satisfied smirk.

”I think if _you_ want to have a really, really good holiday you should probably let them be,” Andre glares at his boyfriend. 

That shuts him up quickly and they move on, thankfully, but Charlie gives her confused glances for the rest of the train ride.

She’ll tell Andre about it later and not Barnaby, just to punish him.

* 

They make it to the station and stumble their way onto the platform through the swelling crowds, hugging all the Weasleys and sending their bulkier luggage home with them, just keeping their small overnight bags. Mrs. Weasley gets teary eyed, fussing over them “going on their romantic getaway” as they head off, hugging Ellie five times over before they can make their escape. 

”We’ll see you in a few days, Mrs. Weasley, I promise I’ll bring him back in one piece.”

Mrs. Weasley cradles Ellie's face in her palms, her smile proud and gentle. 

”If I trust anyone to bring my boys home safe, it’s you dear.” 

They walk through the barrier hand-in-hand, and make their way out into the bustling noise of muggle London. Ellie guides them through the streets, map in hand, thanking Merlin that Penny knows muggle London and could help her figure this out and make the arrangements. 

They walk six blocks down to their hotel, and Charlie’s face when they walk into the gleaming lobby makes everything worth it. They check into their room, a cute little suite with a king sized bed. Charlie walks in behind her, his jaw dropping open wide, wandering through the room as she tips the bellhop with what she hopes is a sufficient amount. The door closes and he turns to her, awe-struck. 

”Bells...” he trails off, eyes wide. 

“There’s um, another thing, before dinner,” she puts her bag down on the bed, digging through the compartments of her rather generously expanded duffle, “I got Andre and Penny to help me, ‘cause I wanted to surprise you and I didn’t know if you’d have anything to wear, so...” 

She finds it, pulling the garment bag out and laying it on the bed. She unzips it, and Charlie makes a small, distressed noise in his throat, walking closer to the bed. 

Inside is a beautifully made navy blue suit, with a crisp white shirt and a speckled, charcoal coloured tie. She reaches back into her bag, pulling out a pair of shiny brown leather shoes. 

”So I know this isn’t like, _anything_ like you normally wear, and if you hate it I’m really, really sorry, but I wanted you to feel nice for dinner, that’s all, and if you hate it you very much don’t have to wear it—“ 

Charlie kisses her hard, cradling the back of her neck with his hand. She kisses back eagerly, relieved and calmer by the time he pulls away. Charlie looks into her eyes, expression tender. 

”Everything that I think of from the last three years, where someone has done something really thoughtful for me, has come from you. Everything. You’re so, so lovely to me.” 

She blushes, looking away. 

”I just want to be able to show you how much I care about you. You’ve stayed with me and helped me through so fucking much, and this just feels so small in comparison.” 

“Bells, this is more than I could ever ask you for. Why though?” he wonders, rubbing his hands over her arms.

”For missing your seventeenth, first off, and you got me such a lovely present for mine. And I just... I’m really in love with you, Charlie. Like really, really dumb bloody in love with you.” 

She looks up at him, his eyes wide again. Her heart is pounding, a lump lodged in her throat. This was a terrible idea, this was stupid, what the fuck was— 

“I love you too. _So_ much, Merlin... Fuck, like. _Fuck_ , Ellie.” 

He tackles her back onto the bed, lips meeting hers desperately as their tongues tangle, swallowing each other's moans. 

”When do we need to be ready for dinner?” He growls, his voice low. He attaches his lips to her collarbone, sucking possessively. 

“Two hours,” she gasps, fingers already fumbling to peel his t-shirt off. 

”Brill,” he says, wasting no time sliding his face between her legs and giving her a very, very thorough thank you. She does the same, giving him a very thorough you’re welcome. 

They do manage to get ready in time, although it’s a close thing when they see each other all dressed up in their evening clothes. 

Andre tailored that suit to perfection, and Charlie leaves his hair out loose for the night, soft waves playing handsomely around his face. The fabric clings around his muscles in a way that she could very, very much get used to. 

Ellie has a sweet forest green cocktail dress, the soft fabric floating around her like a dream, her black heels extending her legs to perfection. She charms her hair into a much more perfect version than she normally bothers with, but for Charlie it’s worth it. 

She hails a cab, and Charlie looks like he has so many questions about muggles that he’s dying to ask her. 

”So how fancy is this dinner, anyway? That we’re getting so dressed up like this?” He asks as he stares at the London nightlife rushing past their window. 

She bites her lip, considering. 

”Nice enough to dress up, but not so fancy it’ll be scary?” She compromises, and Charlie gives her a crooked smile. 

They pull up to the restaurant, a quite nice Italian place that Penny raves about. And it really does live up to par. Their very outgoing waitress, Theresa, asks if they’ve ever been to a traditional Italian restaurant before, and when they tell her they haven’t she fusses over them for the rest of the meal. She starts them with a glass of Prosecco (“you spend enough money my loves, you come here you’re family now, you have one on the house”) with the antipasto, which both of them agree they could happily make a meal out of itself. Then the first course, which the waitress insists should be the seafood risotto and their homemade pasta with pesto (and you share, you love each other, heh? You share), and a delicious bottle of wine for them to share. She’s very right again. For the second course she has fish and Charlie has veil, and neither of them can keep quiet about how good it is. They share a tiramisu, sipping at incredible cups of coffee. By the time they leave the restaurant, after thanking and generously tipping their waitress (she refuses to let Charlie look at the bill), they’ve made the executive decision to walk all the way back to their hotel, and at least try to work some of it off. 

They stroll down the streets of London hand in hand, giggly from the wine and snuggled up happily into their warm winter coats. London at Christmas time is really something to behold.

”That was the best I’ve ever eaten in my life, I think,” says Charlie, rubbing over his belly. 

She hums, agreeing with him. 

”I can see why Penny’s family loves it so much. They really make you feel like you belong there with them.” 

”Thank you for this, again. You spoil me Bells, so incredibly much. I never even imagined going to a restaurant like that. Like, why don’t we spend more time in muggle London? There’s so much cool stuff!” 

She giggles, clinging to his arm. 

”I don’t know, but we could make it a tradition, if you like.” 

He looks down at her with a soft smile, kissing her gently. 

”I’d like that.” 

They make their way back to the hotel slowly, wandering through the glowing night and admiring the lights and trees along the way. Excited nerves start bubbling up in her stomach as they get closer. He loves her back, and it’s definitely time. She unlocks the hotel room, letting them both in and kissing him sweetly before pulling away and making for the bathroom. 

”I’ll just be a minute, okay?” Charlie nods, and she shuts the door.

She strips down, adjusting the red silk lingerie set that Penny had come with her to get (“you _have_ to get red, boys are like bulls and just like, lose their mind when they see it” was Penny’s input). She spins, admiring herself in the mirror. Charlie’s seen her in various stages of nudity, but this is different. The slinky fabric of the bra clings to her chest, the tiny panties making her soft round bum look delicious. She takes a deep breath and fixes her hair, walking back out into the room. Charlie’s taken his shoes off, but he’s still lying on the bed in his suit, flicking through TV channels with rapt fascination. He looks over at her when she walks back in, and his eyes almost pop out of his head. 

” _Fuck_ ,” he says under his breath, taking in the beautiful girl in front of him. Her breasts are perky and gorgeous, her nipples poking through the delicate fabric. Her thighs are smooth and strong, her bum round and delicious looking. She looks like a dream.

She walks up next to the bed, standing in front of Charlie with her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. 

”Hi,” she says quietly, crawling on the bed to straddle him. His hands go to her hips on instinct, squeezing at the feel of soft silk under his fingers. He takes in her body, his eyes trailing over her, his hands following in their path. He runs his hands over her sides and up to her chest, thumbing over her nipples to see the way they tighten up through the silk. He runs his thumbs under the straps like he’s caught between wanting to admire the soft red silk against her skin and ripping it off her entirely. She watches him quietly, letting him explore.

”Fuck,” he says again, and apparently he’s been temporarily stunned. She giggles at him, kissing him lightly a few times. 

”I love you,” she says, just a breath whispered against his lips. 

“I love you too,” he replies, running his hands over her arms gently. 

She smiles, elated, and kisses him long and deep, moaning into his mouth as he pushes his tongue against hers. His hands slide back down to her ass and squeeze, and she grinds down against the trousers of his fancy suit. He groans, pulling her hips in close and grinding up into her. She can feel the outline of him pushing against his trousers, thick and hard and insistent. Merlin, she loves his cock. Especially because she pretty much just has to look at him to make him hard. It’s a rather convenient trick. 

Ellie hums, kissing him frantically as she pulls his suit jacket off his shoulders, throwing it in the general direction of an armchair. She loosens his tie enough to get it off his neck, undoing his white shirt with fumbling fingers while he runs his hands all over her quite unhelpfully. Finally, _finally_ she gets the shirt off him, kissing him triumphantly before she goes for his belt. They’re both frantic now, staying attached at the lips as much as possible while he shuffles out of his suit trousers and underwear, his stiff, aching cock finally bobbing free. He goes straight for her pretty silk bra next, undoing the clasp and flinging it across the room dramatically, the idiot. She has to laugh, then. She loves him so fucking much. 

Charlie flips them over while she’s mid-giggle, and the way he grinds his hips down into her turns the sound into a moan abruptly. The feeling of him is so unrelenting, sliding against her through her thin, sopping silk panties. She moans into his kiss, wrapping her legs around his hips, grinding into him hard. She wants this so badly. 

“Charlie,” she whispers, and cups his jaw with one hand as his eyes come to meet hers, “fuck me.” 

His eyes grow dark and he groans, reattaching their lips desperately. 

”Fuck Bells, are you sure?” He pants, making a concerted effort the stop moving his hips for the moment. 

”Positive. Are you ready?” She asks in return, tangling her fingers in the loose waves at the back of his neck. He kisses her again, lighter and sweeter this time. She hums into it, smiling. 

“Crikey, yes. I’ve been dreaming about this for so bloody long. Do we need...”

She shakes her head no.

”I got some stuff from Madam Pomfrey, don’t worry,”

“Brilliant, awesome, good. Fuck, I want you so badly,” he stutters, his brain seeming to move a million miles an hour.

”I love you,” she beams at him, grinding up into him again, “I’ve wanted you so fucking badly too, just needed some room to ourselves for once.” 

”Merlin, I know,” he groans, eyes clenched tight, “even at home we can barely get a second to ourselves.” 

She hums, agreeing, before she slides one hand down between them to wrap around him. He sucks a breath between his teeth, relishing the feeling. _This_ she knows at least.

“Love this,” she says in a quiet rasp, her hand working over him in slow, teasing strokes, “Love how hard you get for me, ready whenever I want you. Can’t wait to feel you,”

Charlie’s hips stutter and he makes a tortured sound, pulling himself out of her grasp and moving down between her thighs. He slides her ruined silk panties down over her, letting his fingers trail the length of her legs as he pulls them off her. He spreads her wide open then, diving straight into her wet heat with his tongue, lapping around her messily before focusing on her clit with the tip. Her thighs try to fly up and close around his head but he catches her, holding her open for him while her licks her apart. She moans wantonly, burying her hands in his hair as an anchor. 

” _Fuck, Charlie_ ,” she groans. He’s already done this for her once today, and the fact that he loves doing it so much just makes her want him inside her even more. 

He hums, pulling her clit between his lips and sucking hard. Ellie feels like a match has been struck deep in her belly, lighting up her core as he works her over relentlessly. He slips two fingers inside her, her hips bucking into his mouth as he curls them, torturing her nerves. It’s almost annoying that he knows her body so well but they haven’t even had a chance to properly have sex yet. 

”Fuck, please,” she pants, the fire in her belly growing, nerves lighting up all over her skin. 

Charlie pulls off her clit, keeping his fingers moving fast.

“Are you gonna come for me Bells? Gonna give me one before I give you my cock?” He asks, his voice low and rough. Merlin she loves it when he gets like this, all rough and talkative. She nods frantically, humming moans out between tightly pressed lips. Her whole body is tense, pulled taught like an elastic waiting to snap. He goes back to sucking on her clit, flicking his tongue over the sensitive nub, and that’s it. He sends her flying, her legs shaking violently as she comes hard, her chest heaving. 

”Mm, fuck baby,” he says as he fucks her through it, “So gorgeous love, you’re gonna be so pretty stuffed full of me.” 

She moans loudly, the image invading her mind. 

”Please, I want you,” she pants, wrapping her legs around his waist as he crawls back up her body, stopping to suck and pinch her nipples on the way just to see her squirm and moan again. 

”I love you so bloody much,” he whispers to her, the sweet, soft kiss he plants on her lips in stark contrast to the way his cock rubs against her belly, achingly hard and thick.

”I love you too,” she whispers back, loosening her legs to give him more room to move. 

Charlie pulls his hips back, planting one hand by her shoulder and wrapping the other around his cock, guiding it towards her slowly, his body trembling in anticipation. It takes a bit of fumbling, but she lifts her hips to help him and he slides inside her, groaning loudly and squeezing his eyes shut as her tight, wet heat envelops the head of his cock. She hisses, the sensation not necessarily uncomfortable so much as a strange, very foreign feeling stretch. He holds himself there, panting, and swallows hard. She can feel his _pulse_ inside her, bloody hell. It’s unreal.

”Fuck, holy shit,” he swears, hand still wrapped around himself at the base, “you alright?” 

She nods, giggling. 

“I’m peachy, thanks. Are you?” 

“I think so, fuck. You’re amazing,” he moans as he slides into her the rest of the way. She wraps her legs tight around his waist again, holding him inside her and savouring the feeling. 

”Christ, you feel good,” she breaths, wiggling her hips to get herself used to the full feeling of his hard, unforgiving length. She clenches somewhat without realizing what she’s doing, and Charlie moans again.

”Bloody hell, I’m never getting anything else done again in my life.” 

He pulls his hips back, pressing into her for his first full, proper thrust, and they both moan. 

” _Fuck_ ,” she gasps, pulling her hips up off the bed to get him in as deep as she can, the thick length rubbing inside her just right while she’s still riding the high of her first orgasm. She’d heard it might hurt, but apparently not if she’s already feeling so good. She’ll fucking take it. 

Charlie thrusts in an out of her again and again, moving faster and more confidently as she starts moaning, her muscles squeezing around him every so often. 

“Shit Ellie, fuck,” he pants, his forehead dropping to her shoulder. She can see the muscles shifting in his shoulders as he works, the rippling surface like an ocean for her high to ride on. They both know it hasn’t been very long, maybe 10 minutes, but they’ve been deprived of this feeling for so long, it doesn’t seem to matter. 

”I love you so much, _fuck_ ,” she pants, throwing her head back and letting herself feel, her boobs bouncing as he thrusts into her hard. 

”So happy that we’re doing this together, that I get to be all full of you,” she moans, “The only person who gets to have me like this baby. I’m all yours,”

Charlie shutters, his head snapping up so he can look her in the eyes, his face slack and his breathing harsh. His thrusts get sloppy, almost punishing.

”Please El, fuck. ‘M gonna come,” he moans, his voice breaking, “gonna come inside you, holy shit,” 

“Please Charlie,” she begs, voice breathy, “make me yours.” 

”Oh, fu— mm,” he tenses abruptly, his face dropping to her shoulder again as he comes into her in long, throbbing pulses. Ellie moans, squeezing around him at the feeling, clinging to his shoulders as they both start to come down, kissing each other like they’ll die if they stop.

”Fuck that’s good,” she pants after a few moments of desperate, needy kisses, and Charlie lets out a breathless laugh. 

“Tha’s the understatement of a century. We should have started doing that years ago, bloody hell.” 

His voice is so gravely and slow, like his brain is slogging through a muddy road. She wiggles her hips slightly and he moans weakly, kissing her again as a distraction. 

“You’re not wrong. But at the same time I’m kind of glad my first time wasn’t in a dorm bed, or somewhere where one of your eight thousand family members could have walked in, so that’s nice.”

”That’s... Yeah okay, you’re definitely right,” he says, kissing her forehead sweetly, “I wouldn’t trade tonight for anything else.” 

She loves it when Charlie’s sweet like this. They still aren’t always great at talking about their feelings, but they’re definitely better now. 

”Shower with me?” She asks, crinkling her nose, “M’ all sticky.” 

Charlie throws his head back in a laugh, agreeing. He insists on carrying her the ten feet to the bathroom, but she doesn’t complain about it that much. Any excuse to be wrapped in his enormous arms is a good excuse in her books. 

They clean up, but only stay that way for a very, very short period of time. They don’t bother after the next two rounds. They’ve got a lot of time to make up for, and a lot to try.   
  


* 

Needless to say, they wake up late the next day, naked and cuddled into each other. Both of them are giddy and sated, but they manage to go one more time that morning before they get up, spooning with Charlie thrusting into her lazily from behind. It’s a really rather nice way to wake up. They shower (separately this time) and dress, Ellie hurrying Charlie along so they can get an early lunch and head to Diagon Alley for her surprise, dodging any and all of Charlie's questions along the way. She drags him down the alley, coming to a stop in front of the small, inconspicuous tattoo parlour. Charlie's eyes widen almost comically, and he turns on Ellie. 

"Surprise, happy Christmas," she grins, and he still looks like he doesn't really believe her. 

"Bells... Are you serious?" he asks, and her grin grows wider. 

"Of course I'm serious. Obviously I'm not going to force you to get anything, but you have an appointment and I'm paying for it if you do. I know how badly you've wanted one, so this is me, giving you that option." 

Charlie just stares at her, nodding. Ellie grabs his hand and pulls him into the small, scrubbed stone shop. The owner is a colourful young witch, bright and pleasant and covered with tattoos herself. She sets both of them at ease quickly, and asks Charlie all sorts of questions. The whole process is beyond exciting for both of them, and Ellie's heart flutters when Charlie tells the artist what he wants without hesitation. 

"A Hebridean Black," he explains, and the artist gets to work on a design for him. She knows immediately it's because of the dragon scale. The first bit of a dragon he'd ever owned, and one that she gave to him. To most, it'll seem like a harmless enough choice. But she knows, and he knows, and that's still enough to make her stomach flip in ways she still doesn't completely understand. Two hours later, and they're both staring at his arm in amazement.

The dragon is about six inches long, done up in delicate black and grey ink. It can roam from Charlie's elbow to his peck on his left side as it wishes, and is currently zooming in circles around his bicep excitedly. The dragon has an egg, and when Charlie taps her with his wand, the egg will slide open, and reveal a tiny compass. The compass contains a spell, and it's meant to help navigate while apparating. If he's traveling long distances, it'll help him find safe places to stop to disapparate from again. When Charlie heard it was an option, he didn't hesitate for a single second. So now he has his dragon, who he's named Willow, and a smile on his face a mile wide. The second they get back to their hotel room, Charlie pounces on her. 

"You are the single most incredible person I've ever met," he growls, pinning her up against the back of the hotel room door. He grabs her wrists and pins them over her head, sliding a knee between her thighs, and Ellie fully, involuntarily _whimpers_ at the feeling. 

"Charlie," she gasps, and his lips connect with the base of her throat. He sucks a deep red mark into her skin, and Ellie writhes as he works her over. When he's satisfied with his work, he kisses his way back to her lips, dominating her mouth in a greedy, all-consuming kiss. He traps her body beneath his own, sliding his leg higher between hers, and Ellie grinds against his thigh desperately as he kisses her. She's still letting needy whimpers escape from her throat, and Charlie groans bodily at the sound. He moves against her, and she can feel the definitive outline of his hard cock against her hip. 

"Charlie, please," she begs, and with one more punishing kiss he hoists her legs around his waist, carrying her over to the bed and tossing her down onto it. He wastes no time at all, stripping her out of her corduroy pants and shirt, before stripping himself and joining her on the the bed. He kisses her one more time, and then flip her onto her stomach, hauling her hips up high. 

"Wha-?" she makes a confused noise, but it turns into a moan as she feels Charlie line up behind her. 

"You're so fucking perfect Ellie," he groans, running the head of his cock over her slick folds. She's so wet she might find it a little embarrassing if he didn't seem to like it so much.

He slides in without any more preamble, and she's so overwhelmed by the feeling of him that her hips collapse down to the bed. He feels so fucking _thick_ from this angle, filling her up and hitting her in places that make her whole body tremble. Charlie groans as he follows her down to the mattress, and his cock somehow feels even more unrelenting, rubbing against the front wall inside her in ways she's never even dreamed of. She clenches around him and Charlie swears, pressing his face against the back of her shoulder. He drags his hips back and thrusts in, and they both moan out, overwhelmed. Ellie's never felt so completely consumed this way, face down in the sheets with Charlie inside her, on top of her, all around her. She clenches her hands into the soft duvet, and hoists her hips off the mattress slightly. Charlie picks up the pace, and Ellie finds herself moaning wantonly into the pillow, wriggling against him as he thrusts into her at a punishing speed. She's so overwhelmed that when she comes it surprises her, a deep, throbbing ache inside of her that has her clenching around him wildly, a gush of wetness accompanying the feeling. She's never come without touching her clit before, and the experience is so strange that she's confused, through the haze of ecstasy. Charlie collapses against her back, his own intense release spurred on by the power of hers, her clenching muscles milking the orgasm out of him. He thrusts through it weakly, kissing her neck between shallow, panting breaths. 

Charlie rolls off of her after collecting himself, pulling her into his sweaty chest and kissing her deeply. Ellie hums happily, enjoying the peace of the moment. Charlie pulls away and kisses her nose, smiling down at her indulgently. 

"I love you so fucking much." he whispers, and she kisses him again around her own pleased grin. 

"I love you too." 

He lifts his arm, and she notices that Willow has curled up in a little ball on the inside of his bicep. She points it out, and he grins down at his little dragon pal. The skin around her is still red and a little puffy, but the artist gave him a potion that will help it heal within the next few days. 

They order room service that night, the prospect of donning anything more that the hotel robes viscerally unappealing to both of them during their final night of blissful privacy. The next day, when they check out and apparate to The Burrow from a back alley, Charlie leads, and the compass works perfectly. 

They're dog-piled by Charlie's siblings as soon at they walk inside, and Bill gives them infuriatingly knowing looks. Molly starts fussing over Ellie immediately, and she's glad she opted for a high-necked sweater to cover the possessive love-bite that sits not-quite low enough on her throat. They move upstairs to get settled, back to their usual configuration of Ellie in Charlie's room, and Charlie in with Bill. The three of them end up in Bill's room, Charlie bursting to show his brother his tattoo. Bill whistles when he sees it, and Willow stretches out, showing herself off. He inspects it closely, then comments off-hand, "a Hebridean Black, eh?" 

They both blush, and Bill, as ever, looks pleased that he caught them out. He thumps Charlie on the shoulder, standing to leave the room. 

"It looks great Charlie, really. Suits you," he says, and then turns to face them head on, the look on his face far too teasing for either of them to be safe. 

"Now, I know you guys are smart, but you were _smart,_ yeah?"

Both of their faces flame, and Charlie chucks a pillow at his brother. 

" _Merlin_ Bill," Charlie groans, "yes, you git. Fucking hell. Even when we have privacy we don't have any bloody privacy." 

Bill cackles, and Ellie rolls her eyes. 

"Welcome to manhood, darling Charles. Dinner's in an hour. My guess is that you have about twenty minutes before Mum starts yelling for you to help her. Ta," he sing songs, waltzing out of the room and shutting the door dramatically. Charlie rolls his eyes at Bill's antics, but cuddles into Ellie none the less. It's not like they're going to do _that_ right now, but twenty minutes of cuddling and kissing is not something either of them will turn down. They have a whole other week and a half of this, there's no need to rush. 

It's a really, really good Christmas. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of dope-ass magical tattoos has been floating around my head for so long and I want so many people to have so many cool moving tattoos like obviously they exist cause death eaters but-


End file.
